


How I Became Alice (And fell in love with the Tin Man)

by vexmybones



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Complete, Darcy down the rabbit hole, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm new at this, Just for funsies, Kid Fic, Kinda. Maybe. Sorta., Look Ma I'm posting, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Really Character Death, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Please Don't Hate Me, Snark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 67,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexmybones/pseuds/vexmybones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Darcy dies, more than once, Tony snarks, and they both have to face those nasty things called feelings. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Due to the ridiculousness that is photobucket, pics in epilogue are currently defunct!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down, down, down...

They say that right before you die your life flashes before your eyes. But as I’ve learned, that isn’t always the case. After the second or third near death experience you tend to get a little frustrated. I mean come on, who wants to watch the same thing over again and again, rinse and repeat? Not me! My life isn’t all that grand… or well, it wasn’t a few years ago. After the ‘Thor Incident’ and watching that Destroyer thing demolish a town, let’s just say that was the first time I watched my life on a reel. A couple of years and kidnappings later and my reaction to imminent death was a bit different. It was more like that Georgia chick on Dead Like Me where you can’t do anything more than mutter _‘Oh, shit.’_ before catastrophe hits.

But I digress.

My name is Darcy Lewis, and this, this is how I died. The first time.

 

                                                                                                  * * *    * * *

 

“Daaaaaarcy, why are your feet on my table? And better yet, why are you in my lab? Jarvis, did you let Shortstack here into my sanctuary? Why, J, inquiring minds, mine, needs to know!”

“Sir, I was told by Ms. Potts to allow Miss Lewis entry. I do believe she is here with nourishment.”

Sucking up a drink of sugary goodness through her straw, Darcy leaned further back in the chair she’d dragged over to one of the slightly less messy tables, her dark locks cascading over the arm as she tipped her head back to see Tony. “Pop a squat, Iron Dude!”

Rolling his eyes Tony made an incoherent grunt of acceptance and did as asked. She was lucky he liked her better than the other lackeys that ran around the tower.

“What’s on today’s menu, turkey?” He eyed her watching closely as she dropped her feet to the ground with a thump and stretched across the table setting her drink down.

Darcy shook her head and tucked an unruly strand behind her ear before answering; “Nope, roast beef and curly fries. And stop calling me Shortstack.”

“Stop calling me Iron Dude and I’ll consider it. Also, stop watching Teen Wolf. TV will rot your brain and curly fries will not give you superpowers, Stiles.” At her huff of feigned annoyance a smirk tugged at Tony’s mouth.

Darcy Lewis was an enigma to him, a puzzle that he wanted to take apart and piece back together in ways that he could understand. But Pepper had warned him that if he touched her precious assistant that she would strangle him. He took her words to heart, sue him. Still, since Jane Foster had accepted his invitation to come have fun with him and Bruce in New York in the newly remodeled tower, he’d had his eyes on the baggage she’d brought along. The quirky and outspoken woman had stood toe to toe with him in arguments from politics to the mating habits of penguins. (Don’t ask, seriously, just don’t.) She’d wormed her way into the Avengers’ lives, (and hearts), winning them over with food, playlists, and her undeniable charm. Pepper had taken to her so quickly that she’d offered her Natasha’s old cover as her assistant only a week after their first meeting. And Tony would never admit it, but he was growing attached to the snarky brunette.

Not to mention her curves. Have you seen them? Damn. What he wouldn’t give—

“Earth to Stark!” A floating sub appeared two inches in front of his nose and was snatched away before he could grab it. “I swear, sometimes you’re worse than Jane. Is it a Science! thing or are you just trying to build a fort out of your money in your head?”

“Build a fort out of money? Why would I do that? That’s not very safe or structurally sound.” Leaning over, he grabbed his lunch out of her hand making her swat at him before she turned to her own food.

“Anyway! Brace yourself for Feelings,” she side-eyed him while she dissected her sub, “how are you doing? And do not play stupid with me.”

Tony winced at that, tempted to avoidavoidavoid the subject of his and Pepper’s split. It had been mutual and she was and would always be one of his closest friends, but after the last _‘run for your life!’_ situation with another AIM idiot they’d had words. The only reason that Darcy even knew (and was allowed, semi-allowed to bring it up) was because he’d had a bottle of Jack and offered to take her for a ride in his new suit. (He may have had the hole in his chest repaired but that night it’d felt ripped open and fresh all over.)

“Ah, I’m…. okay. I have my projects and you know, the whole saving the world gig to keep me busy.” Shoving a bite of roast beef into his mouth he refused to meet Darcy’s stare. Suddenly finding his lunch fascinating he ignored her hum and made a gesture to her drink. She pushed it over towards him with her knuckles and he hated how all she did was watch him like a bug.

“Stop it.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t make me kick you out.”

“You wouldn’t. You haven’t had your dessert yet.” Her grin was smug and he wanted to kiss it off of her face. Shit, that was a bad thought. Bad, Tony he berated himself although his body betrayed him and leaned closer to her. He hated that it was like being sucked into a gravitational pull. He couldn’t control it, and he hated that more than anything. He’s Tony Stark, he likes _control._

“You’re evil, Lewis.” “I know,” she sighed as her phone let out an annoying jingle from inside her bag at her feet, “but you love it.”

He watched with an arched brow as she used her feet to lift her oversized bag up and pulled it onto her lap. She fished around for her phone for a second before nimble fingers flew over the screen and resulted in an exhale of breath.

“Boss?”

“Boss.” She nodded and began wrapping up the remains of her meal. “She has a meeting with some banker and I’m late. She says Hi.”

“Hello…. and goodbye?” He wipes his mouth on a napkin as she stuffs things into her bottomless purse and stands, adjusting her clothes and sending her chair rolling back to a corner of his shop. He takes a moment to appreciate the cut of her dark charcoal pantsuit, the white of a button-up peeking out atop her cleavage making it look modest. What a damn shame he thinks as she pulls a small-ish box out of thin air and places it in front of him with a flourish.

“Don’t say I never gave you anything.” Darcy, sneaky imp that she is, bends down and slides an arm across his chest, her cheek resting on his temple and mouthwatering ladies so close that he goes cross-eyed for a moment. Her hugs are always out of the blue and leave him a little short of breath and this one is no exception. He swallows air as she squeezes him tighter before releasing him and leaving the workshop with nothing more than a _‘See ya!’_ thrown over her shoulder.

“Yeah…” Tony mutters to the empty room and blinks rapidly glancing at the box of his favorite cookies (she bakes like a demon when the urge hits her) she’d left behind. Damn her, he didn’t need all these gross Feelings! Why had she developed this power of knowing exactly how to scale his walls? He’d worked fucking hard at building those things up.

“J, give me some rock. Make it loud.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

Tearing into the box of sweets, he ignores the warmness in his stomach that has nothing to do with the sugar and turns his attention back to what he’d originally been doing before his not-lunch-date.

 

                                                                                             * * *    * * *

 

 _‘Shitshitshitshit…’_ was the resounding mantra in Darcy’s head as she hightailed it to the elevator.

She couldn’t get the vision of Tony in that damn black wife-beater and those oil stained jeans out of her head. The fact that she saw it on a daily basis didn’t matter, either. Even encased in a freaking METAL SUIT OF ARMOR Tony Stark made her ovaries weep. She didn’t understand it, couldn’t grasp the why of the thing. It confused the hell out of her! Here she was living in Avengers Tower with said superheroes; Steve with his serum enhanced pecs (and that ass), Clint and his arms, Thor, when he wasn’t in Asgard, with his everything, and shit, even Natasha was gorgeous. (Not to mention Cap’s new (old) friend with the nifty bionic arm, ngh...) And what did Darcy’s brain decide to do? Fixate on the tortured playboy that swore he didn’t have a death wish.

She was so fucked.

For a little over a year she’d slowly found herself growing closer to the man, learning that there was so much more under that armor. They had a lot in common, beer, food, music, fear of Pepper. Okay, maybe they didn’t have that much in common, but she’d still stumbled head over ass for him. God help her, but she was clinging to the rocky cliff side with earth under her nails ‘cause she didn’t want to. But nights spent parked in front of his TV while insomnia kept them up and shared incidents had pushed her closer to that inevitable ledge. She’d even made lists of ‘Why this is BAD’ and ‘Please, God No’ but to no avail. Like, there was the age difference, how Pepper (and the others) would probably disapprove, and the risk that he’d ruin her for anyone else…

She was so _fucked._

“You going down, Miss Lewis?”

“So, so far down,” she muttered as the question startled her out of her stupor and she stepped into the now open elevator before turning and glancing at its other occupant with a warm smile, “and it’s Darcy, Steve. I’ve slept on your couch; I thought we were past that?”

“Sorry, Darce, you just seemed a bit occupied. Are you alright?”

Nodding, she was once again reminded why she liked Steve so much; he always looked past her weak excuses and knew when she was internally freaking the fuck out. He’d become like her gay best friend (don’t laugh, everyone knew him and Barnes were playing hide the sausage) and was the only one who really knew how she felt about Tony.

Needless to say, he was a bit overprotective and had glared at Stark for a week after she’d let him in on her little secret. It had been hilarious.

“I am peachy, Cap’n! Just had lunch with Tony and was called away for a meeting that I kinda forgot about. You know how it is…” Darcy offered him a crooked smile, shuffling her feet and resting a hip against the shiny chrome wall to her right.

“Right… that sucks?” She snorted at his uncertainty and shrugged, hair falling over her shoulder to curtain her features that she was sure were currently racing through emotions. She loved her job, she really did. But spending day in and day out with the ex (and still best friend?) of the guy you’re crushing on was kind of a downer. And she hated being Debbie Downer and Bitter Betty but alas, there was nothing that she could do about it.

“Eh, I ate a little so I’ll be good to go till later. You have lunch with Barnes?”

She wondered if her eyes lit up at the mention of Tony’s name like Steve’s did at the sound of Bucky’s. Probably. Maybe. Definitely. She knew Steve would see right through her attempt to reroute the conversation from herself, but she couldn’t care less.

“Yes, I did. Those cookies were amazing, by the way. Bucky sends his thanks.”

Darcy doesn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes (which means interrogation is around the corner) and she’s saved by the bell when the doors slide open to the lobby and she gives Steve her brightest smile.

“You’re both very welcome! Hate to run but Pepper waits for no woman. I’ll call you later, yeah?” He nods with a resigned sigh and a smirk as they exit the elevator, Steve walking with her towards the doors then holding one open for her.

Giving Steve a wink, Darcy moves to where Happy is parked at the curb and slides into the backseat next to a perfectly coiffed Pepper. The woman is immaculate and Darcy wants to be her when she grows up.

With a jerk the car takes off into the hectic traffic and Pepper glances up from her cell at her with a knowing gaze. “Did Tony eat at least half of his sandwich?”

“Yep, and I gave him some of those cookies that I made for Steve and Bucky. He won’t be able to resist. So at least he’ll get a little something in his stomach.” Her answer is automatic and soft.

“Good,” Pepper nods once returning her attention back to her phone, “Jarvis tattled on him this morning and I knew you could get him to eat. Alright, for this meeting I just need you to take notes. I know it bores you, but try not to draw stick figure murders again?”

“One time, Pepper! I did that once and that bald guy deserved it. His voice was making my ears bleed.” She’s used to the way Pepper switches gears from veiled curiosity to work mode in a blink and glad she can keep up, her replies shifting just as smoothly.

“He was really monotone, wasn’t he?”

Happy’s chuckle filters back to them and Pepper’s lips quirk up into a smile, Darcy nodding in agreement as the car slows and darts into a spot at the curb in front of a massive building. She really hated this place.

                                                                                                 * * *

Twenty minutes later and she’s seated at a conference table across from a severely pale and skinny man in a navy blue suit that keeps casting her oddly intense looks. She has to check to make sure she didn’t carry any of Tony’s lab back with her in the form of oil splotches on her a few times just to be sure. Once she’s reassured she takes out her Stark-Pad, kind of sad that Pepper made her leave her notebook in the car. One stick figure murder art project and she was forbidden to draw. Dammit, she was going to be bored to death.

“If we can begin?” The stuffy bald guy asks and as a collective everyone nods.

Six minutes, an IM to Jarvis to change Tony’s music to something more Backstreet Boys, and two bullet points later is when Darcy sees the most disturbing thing in her peripheral vision. She had simply ticked her eyes up and met Mr. Thin Man’s when she swore she saw his entire face shift, like something was gliding under his skin over his right cheekbone. Doing a double take, she stared at him rudely until she felt a tap against her ankle; ' _thanks, Pepper.'_

Darcy, unsettled and convinced she needed a nap turned her eyes back down to her tablet.

And of course in the next second something hit the door to the room they were in with a rather loud bang, causing everyone to jump in alarm. Everyone except for Mr. Thin Man who was rising to his feet, and _‘Oh, God. This is bad, so not fucking good. Not again.’_

In a slightly bewildered state she watched as his suit seemed to dissolve into his skin, his freaking incandescent skin and were those _tentacles?! EW!_ Shoving her tablet back (after having the right of mind to hit the panic button that Tony had insisted in installing on the thing) into her bag, she fished blindly for her taser as she totally mom-armed Pepper, their rolling chairs ferrying them away from whatever that dude was.

“You will all die. You are vermin.” His voice had transformed from polite and quiet to flat out evil. It rolled off of every word and made Darcy’s spine straighten in a ‘Hell-No-Not-Today’ kind of way.

“Hold the fucking phone, pal! Who do you think you are?”

“Darcy, shut up!”

She ignored her boss and the three other business men that were cowering in the corner across the room, opting to put herself in front of them and _it_.

“There will be no resistance. You will die.” It (she really couldn’t tell if it was male or female now) seemed to reach into thin air and pluck from it a long staff that resembled, _‘Fuck, fuckity, fuck,’_ one of the weapons that she’d seen disassembled in Tony’s lab once upon a time ago. And of-motherfucking-course he pointed it at her.

“Well, buddy, I don’t feel like dying today, so I think you should wait until my friends get here, then you can tell them all about how much you want to murder me. I know, it sucks, but hey, nothing’s easy!”

Darcy’s smart mouth, her Granny once said, would be her greatest downfall. She never realized until that exact moment how much those words would hurt biting her in the ass.

“I have no use for your meaningless words”

Turns out? Intergalactic space guns hurt a fucking lot. And falling out of windows, too. Who knew she’d get to mark off skydiving from her bucket list on the same day she was actually _dying_? Ironic, right?

After his declaration he’d aimed and fired right at her middle, the power of the blast knocking her back into the bank of ceiling-to-floor windows they’d been standing in front of. She crashed through the glass like a bag of bricks and despite the agonizing pain, Darcy was completely aware and cursing as her body swan dived down, down, down. The wind whipped her hair around her head like Medusa’s snakes in a panic, the roar of losing altitude at an alarmingly fast rate, and the feel of gravity’s greedy hands made her angry. She hated being helpless and she was about to fucking die. This day, she wanted a refund.

The impact of the ground came quicker than she expected, but she couldn’t understand why she was still breathing until she heard the unmistakable angry tone that Tony saved for DUM-E when he pulled the fire extinguisher trick.

“Stay with me, Lewis, don’t you fucking die on me.”

Oh. That’s why she hadn’t splattered like Humpty Dumpty. Iron Man. A cough interrupted a smile tainted with red as she pried her eyes open, (when had she closed those?). His faceplate was flipped up and he was muttering to himself and Darcy was pretty sure that he had taken one part of a gauntlet off to poke at her wound with fleshy fingers. She couldn’t tell, the pain was beginning to numb out and it was getting a little hard to breathe. Damn the girls for being so heavy.

“Fuck, Cap, can you get— I’m taking her back to the tower, never mind. I DON’T CARE!” Tony shouted, his eyes were wild and he looked pissed off and terrified. Shit, she’d really fucked it up now, hadn’t she? Somehow Darcy managed to raise a suddenly very heavy hand using a clumsy index finger to poke at Tony’s scruffy cheek, (neither realized that there was blood on her fingertips and that she’d painted his face with a smear like a toddler with finger paints).

“Come on, Shortstack; let’s get you back home, okay.” She thought he attempted to smile but it just looked forced, she was getting sleepy, though and was okay with whatever he wanted to do. Her anger had receded the second she’d opened her eyes and now she was simply okay. Did she want to die? No. But hey, at least she was going out in style. _‘Way to be optimistic.’_ sneered her inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Jane.

As Tony gently lifted her back into his iron arms, she frowned as the sun annoyingly glared off of his suit. And the last thing that Darcy thinks of isn’t a flash of her life’s highlights, nope. She goes out with a flare of anger because she; ‘ _Didn’t even get to kiss him.’_


	2. The Wrong Fairytale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Darcy has a few startling revelations...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a caution that this chapter may be a bit trigger-y. Nothing major, Darcy just has a slight moment of anxiety that leads to a rather small panic attack. Hope I tagged it properly. Anyway, to the story! =)

Consciousness came to Darcy in small increments, that legarthic feeling of floating slowly, like coming awake from a dream, a small respite from the blackness of _nothing_. Three things stood out the most as her eyes roamed under her lids, they were seeking her attention but she just wasn’t ready to face them. The first of which was this: 

  1. She was apparently lying on her side and her arms were locked in place, causing the girls to be crushed annoyingly against something. (She was sadly used to rolling over in her sleep only to wake up with sore boobs from being pressed between her weight and the mattress, so at least she knew what that was!)
  2. Secondly, there was something tickling her nose and no matter how much she twitched it or tried to move away, it was still there.
  3. That brought her to her last ‘issue’; there was a weight pressing against her left shoulder (so that’s what was on her damn hair and keeping her from moving her head away from what was tickling her nose, dammit.) and pushing her into whatever she was lying against. 



And did she mention she was warm? Like trapped in her covers, sweaty, _warm_? Because she was and if she didn’t find the motivation to move soon she might just start to panic. On that note, Darcy tried to tug her left arm free only to have it yanked back into place by what felt like a man’s hand.

Well, that was disturbing.

Her eyes flew open and at first glance Darcy was utterly confused. It appeared that it was hair tickling her nose so incessantly, but it wasn’t _her_ hair. Nope, hers wasn’t that short, nor was it attached to the back of what was definitely a man’s head. ‘ _Um…. What?’_ her brain eloquently supplied her with. But before she had the chance to evaluate her predicament any further the weight pressing her into the stranger’s back _shifted_.

And _giggled_.

Definitely disturbing here…

The person in front of her sighed and her body moved with his deep inhalation all the while she blinked rapidly trying to clear the fog from her perplexed brain. And in the next few seconds two things happened simultaneously: the weight, or she’d be right to call it a small person, climbed on top of her ( _ouch_ , _that’s my hair!_ ) and the man, making him groan and release her captive arm. Darcy watched in a slow-motion haze as the guy threw the covers off of them (thank, God because she had actually been trapped in blankets, _huh._ ) and plucked the small human from its position and held it aloft over his chest where he’d rolled onto his back.

 ' _Dude, great arms…’_ was the only coherent thought that Darcy had before her mind decided to pack up its shit and leave. Just like in those cartoons with the bandana tied at the end of a stick, swear to Thor. Because she had the great idea to follow those arms up, glancing at the tiny human (a boy apparently) and then _down_ at the owner of the guns.

“Daddy, did Mom have a bad dream?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Let’s ask her, yeah?” 

Darcy’s ass hurt from hitting the hardwood floor, legs entangled in the sheet that she’d got tripped by in her rush to get the _hell_ outta Dodge. Sitting in a rumpled mess in the floor her hand blindly groped the nightstand she’d smacked her knee on, on the way down, desperate for her glasses. Because she _had_ to be seeing shit unclearly. But that voice. There was no denying that sleep roughened timbre that she knew probably too well to just be friends. Squeaking in triumph, she jerked her glasses down and stuck them on her face with shaking hands, ‘cause _‘nope, nope, nope.’_ But nope indeed, she gazed up from her spot as two dark haired males peered over the side of the bed and down at her.

“You okay, Darce?”

“Mom, your hair looks funny.”

A strangled giggle left her mouth and a hand flew up to clap over her lips. She _never_ giggled, except when she was about to panic, really panic. Oh, shit. She had to get out of here.

“’M fine… just gotta pee.”

“Wash your hands, with soap.” The little boy helpfully instructed as the man arched an eyebrow at her and a hint of a smile played at those damning lips.

“Uh, yeah. Be right back.” Darcy flailed aimlessly scrambling to her feet making a spectacle of herself as she fought with the sheet, slinging it to the foot of the bed once freed from its cotton prison. Making a mad dash towards the nearest door, thankfully the right one, she slammed the door and threw the lock into place with a satisfying click. Sucking large gulps of oxygen into her suddenly starved lungs, she dropped her head to the wood of the door and just _breathed_ , her mind running in circles looking for a proper explanation.

Making the mistake, she glanced down at her feet and the glint of something sparkly on her left hand caught her eye. Raising her hand she took one look at the diamond and matching wedding band before squeezing her eyes closed and fighting not to have a full blown panic attack. ‘ _Oh, God… I’m dead. I have to be dead. Seriously, that’s the only excuse for this shit. That asshole shot me and now I’m fucking dead. Is this Heaven? Or some twisted form of Hell? I need a fluffy pillow. Breathe, Lewis. Get it together.’_ That time her subconscious sounded like Steve. God, she could use one of his hugs right now.

The knock on the other side of the door made her jolt with a whimper, tears of frustration and confusion threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Sweetheart, everything alright in there?”

 She hadn’t realized how long she’d just been standing there trying to breathe and she swallowed the lump in her throat so she could answer.

“Yeah,” she had to clear her throat before continuing, “coffee, I think I need some coffee. I’ll be out in a minute.”

A chuckle answers her before he says, “I can do that. Grab Lee on your way down, I’ve got Josh.”

Oh, there were two of them. Two tiny humans. She thumped her forehead against the door and making what she hoped was a sound of agreement listening for the sounds of him walking away to leave her to freak out in peace. Turning around and taking in her surroundings seemed like a thing to do now. The bathroom had all of her favorite things, her makeup cluttered around one sink (she just _knew_ it was hers), fluffy towels in orange, red, and purple folded neatly on a shelf that also housed hair care stuff and other toiletries. A walk-in shower occupied the back wall with a claw foot tub set perpendicular under two windows… The walls were painted a warm homey gold. At least she seemed to decorate better in this reality, right?

Moving to the sink she was going to assume was hers, she grabbed a hair-tie and pulled her unruly locks up into a messy bun atop her head, carefully avoiding her reflection at the moment. Removing her glasses she turned the faucet on and bent at the waist and splashed cold water onto her overheated face. Nothing made sense, but the remnants of her panic were dissipating and leaving her with a sense of; _‘What now?’_ Right, she could do this. Apparently she was a mother and had shit to do.

And apparently, she was married to Tony Stark.

‘ _OhGodOhGodOhGod, Thor, help me, I need assistance. Danger, Will Robinson, DANGER.’_

Grabbing a hand towel that was draped over a set of curlers, she finally took a second to take stock of her person. She looked the same, nothing seemingly out of place until she pulled her shirt up to see if the hole that had killed her was somehow twisted into a scar here. Instead she found almost invisible stretch marks. Great, nice to know they still existed, even in dreams (heaven? hell?).

Putting her glasses back on, she moved to the door and taking a deep breath edged it open, peering out into the now (‘ _Oh thank, God’)_ empty bedroom. Nearly tip-toeing out, Darcy noticed a comfy looking hoodie draped over a chair in the corner of the room, which she snatched up immediately. Feeling a little more secure once engulfed in the, looking at her chest she noted, MIT sweatshirt, she ventured out of the safety of the bedroom and into the hall.

There were three doors to choose from, one a little ways down the hall, another across the hall from that one, and yet another directly across from the bedroom she’d just exited. Darcy chose door number one that was cracked open and emitting sounds that suspiciously sounded like a _baby_ babbling. Easing the door opened, she stood and stared at what was most definitely a child’s room. The walls were painted a cheery shade of lavender, a large tree mural painted behind a white crib, and this is where Darcy’s world got a little smaller. The kid couldn’t be more than nine months old and she looked like she’d been taken out of one of the baby pictures that Darcy’s mom used to embarrass her with. But the kicker was her eyes. They weren’t the weird blue that she possessed, nope; they were adorable and _brown_ just like Tony’s.

“Ma, ma, mama!” The little girl babbled at the sight of Darcy and beat an obviously well loved stuffed animal against the rail of her crib.

“Uh, hi …kid?” She swallowed and stepped further into the room. She’d helped her cousin when she’d had her first kid, she’d practically mom’ed her best friend’s first kid when the baby’s father was MIA, and up until she left for college she’d babysat for her brother occasionally. She wasn’t afraid or anything, just… those weren’t _her and Tony’s_ apparent kids. Stepping towards the crib, her nose wrinkled at the faint smell. She hated changing diapers. But a girl had to do what needed to be done.

 

                                                                                                           * * *

 

Ten minutes later, the baby (hadn’t Tony called her Lee? Huh, that was Darcy’s mom’s middle name) was cleaned up and outfitted in a soft green onesie that proclaimed in white and all caps; ‘DADDY KEEP CALM AND CALL MOMMY’. She couldn’t help but to snicker at that as she navigated her way down the stairs carefully with the baby perched on her hip, in search of the music.

Yes, apparently in this world Tony still enjoyed music at all hours. At least something had stayed the same.

She found the large, open kitchen easily and took a moment to take in the scene that was playing out. The little boy was dancing from foot to foot and wielding a whisk while Stark spoke animatedly to him about whatever he was pouring into a skillet. Fleetwood Mac was pouring happily from hidden speakers while morning sun shone through the window over the farmhouse sink. There was an island in the middle of the kitchen painted a happy teal color with a butcher block counter and from the ceiling hung a whimsical antique looking chandelier. ‘ _I’ve fallen into Kansas instead of the other way around. I’m Alice and married to the Tin Man.  I’m in the wrong damn fairytale.’_ She couldn’t help but think.

Just as the music faded out and into Frank Sinatra crooning about the young at heart, completely solidifying her musings that she was definitely _in_ Kansas now and not in Oz, the little boy noticed her presence. He abandoned his father at the stove and bounded over to her, skidding to a stop in front of her with a rakish grin that was all Stark. (Okay, maybe there was a _smidgen_ of her in there too.)

“We’re makin’ pancakes!” he informed her as he reached up his little hand to tug (lightly for a kid) at his sister’s bare, chubby toes causing her to kick and squirm in Darcy’s grasp.

His declaration drew Tony’s attention and he turned in their direction where she was presented with him standing in what was presumably ( _‘come on, you know it’s yours by now’_ ) their kitchen in low slung sweat pants, a white wife-beater, and to top it off an apron that read; ‘Kiss the Cook’. She’d be lying if the sight didn’t make her knees go a little weak.

“Ah! She’s alive! And she has a monster on her hip. A very adorable monster if I do say so myself.” His grin matched his son’s and she was rooted to the spot as he pretty as you please strolled over to her, skirting the island and dropping a spatula on his way, then invading her personal space to lean in and press a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Good mornin’…” Darcy choked out to the scruff of his jaw as he adjusted his stance to growl playfully at Lee, his mussed up bed-head (it was longer here than it was in Oz) flopping all over his brow causing the little girl to squeal in delight and hide her face in Darcy’s neck. Of course he nuzzled the both of them and made her pulse skyrocket with a stabilizing, warm palm rested on her hip like it was commonplace.

“Daaaaaaaaad, they’re gonna burn again!” Saved by the son, Darcy released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding when Tony released them and twirled (yes, he actually _twirled_ ) around, placing a hand on the kid’s face, his palm comically covering his features, and pulled him to his hip.

“Then get over there and flip them! What are you doing standing here? Why are you wasting my time, kid?”

“’M no wathin’ yer tum!” he replied into Tony’s hand while his small hands flew up to beat at the arm connected to his new muzzle.

 “Could ‘a fooled me.” Tony responded as he ushered the boy back across the kitchen, only removing his hand when they got to the stove and he helped him up what must be a stepstool to reach the appliance.

Blinking from her stupor when a miniature hand slapped against her cheek, Darcy glanced at the baby and was greeted by a one-tooth smile. She smiled back automatically then turned her attention back to the kitchen. She seriously needed coffee and then _maybe_ she would feel a little bit saner. Spotting a highchair at one end of the island, she moved over and secured the kid, promising to bring her some form of food back in a minute. She didn’t have a clue where anything was, but if Darcy was anything it was capable of finding her way around any kitchen she stepped foot in. Plus if this really was _her_ kitchen everything would be exactly where she always kept it, right?

Following her nose to the coffee, she slid around the boy who had continued his dancing and was currently hip-checking Tony as they flipped misshapen pancakes. Opening a cabinet over a bright red coffee monster of a machine, she sighed in relief at the option of mugs. Opting for a blue one that broadcasted ‘Sunny days are ahead!’ on its side with a smiling sun on its bottom, she poured a steaming cup of go-go-juice. Adding her usual sugar and creamer she was stirring the concoction when she felt warmth at her back and that damn hand on her hip again.

Tony invaded more than just her personal space as he fitted her back against his front, his scruff scratching against her neck as his head dipped. His lips… ‘ _Oh shit…’_  He mouthed at the side of Darcy’s throat, a calloused hand slipping under her (his) hoodie and across her stomach making the butterflies inside go berserk. Her lashes fluttered closed of their own violation, the hand stirring coffee going slack at the sound of a hum of pure male satisfaction.

“You ready for this weekend, because I know _I_ am.”

The whispered statement, so thick with insinuation, slithered down her spine causing her to shiver. She didn’t know what the hell to think. She wanted to turn Neanderthal and conk Stark over the head, drag him back upstairs and have her wicked way with him. But on the other hand she wanted to run. Run far, far, _far_ away. So she chose to play dumb even though he’d probably think she was crazy. (Which, _hello!_ she totally was at the moment.)

“Hm… and what exactly is this weekend?” See, she could do this. She’s a big tough girl.

“Don’t pull that with me, Mrs. Stark. You know exactly—“

“Daddy! Mommy! Breakfast is ready and LeLe is getting mad!”

And saved by the son again. God bless that kid. Darcy was having a minor heart attack at the title Tony had used and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t giggle like a lunatic if she had to reply to that at the moment.

She totally could _not_ do this. She lied; she wanted her messy bed back at the tower, a bottle of Natasha’s favorite vodka, and cartoons.

 

                                                                                                      * * *

 

Forty five minutes later found Darcy sitting in the corner of a very comfortable suede sectional couch, her legs curled under her butt, a blanket covering her lap, and a half-dozing baby curled against her torso. She was making herself as small as possible; a habit she’d developed in childhood whenever she felt too vulnerable and had never quite grew out of. Joshua, as she’d learned the little boy was called, was in the middle of the floor playing with some complicated looking toy and watching Winnie the Pooh.

Well, at least she’d gotten to watch cartoons.

It appeared that Darcy’s love of the tubby teddy bear had bled over into this realm too, and now the tree decorating Lee’s nursery wall made a lot more sense. Although her gaze was on the television, she was so far from being there in mind that she probably looked like a zombie. No one seemed to mind. Tony had muttered something about her needing more coffee and plopped down on the other end of the couch, (thankfully away from her) a laptop balanced on his thighs.

After a surprisingly good breakfast, albeit messy, she’d been dragged into the ‘family room’ and been informed that they had an hour before they had to get ready to leave. Joshua was six and instead of school, (Wednesday, the TV guide had told her) that day his class was going to an aquarium on a fieldtrip. She was a chaperone. She was so not okay with this. Drawn from her daze by the sound of a bell ringing loudly throughout the house, startled she watched as ‘ _Josh, mom, not Joshua!’_ jumped to his little feet and shot off out of the room like a rocket.

Soothing the jostled baby, Darcy’s gaze turned to Tony when he stood and followed his son at a more sedate pace. _Doorbell_ , her mind offered her. And if dying and waking up in a crazy fucked up world where she was married to Tony-Fucking-Stark ( _She was Mrs. Stark, oh my GOD!_ ) and had bore him children wasn’t more than enough, well, she’d marry Coulson should she ever make it back to Oz. Because soon after the sound of the front door opening reached her ears so did Tony and Josh’s chorused greetings.

“NANA!”

“Mother…”

Maria Stark was alive and well, and standing at her front door. Darcy needed that vodka now, please and thank you. She held Lee a little closer to her, burying her nose in the baby’s neck hiding from the world and inhaling in the scent of warm baby. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be drawing stick figures and making fun of a banker with Pepper glaring at her fondly. She had a date with Steve and Barnes’ couch and a UFC match on their big-screen. What she didn’t have was an appointment to be a chaperone to a bunch of first graders, or the ability to _be_ Mrs. Stark. Nope, that woman was just striding into the family room.

“Don’t mind her; she’s only on her second cup of coffee.” Tony gratefully offered his mother while dropping back into his spot. Darcy peeked out at him from her hiding spot and stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

“Anthony, you shouldn’t provoke your wife.”

Darcy’s head snapped up and she soaked up the sight of a woman she’d only seen in books and faded photos, not quite believing her eyes. She was a little taller in person, more surreal and not a hair out of place. She gave Darcy a warm smile before it began to fade and melt into concern.

“It’s a good thing you’re taking off this weekend, Anthony, she looks absolutely worn out. Here, let me take her and you go grab a shower and get ready. Don’t worry, I’ll pack Lee’s bag and help Joshua get ready too. He’ll help me with his sister, won’t he?”

Darcy watched in rapt fascination as the little boy nodded his head dutifully and visibly fought back a whine. Maria strode forward and plucked the baby out of her arms, glaring full on at Tony with a look that only a mother can accomplish. All the while he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

She might have gotten distracted for a moment by the cords of muscle in his arms. But only for a minute.

 Being shooed out of a room (her own living room) by a woman (her mother-in-law) that acted as if she owned the place _should_ have pissed Darcy off. Instead, it made her incredibly grateful. And she was up off the couch and out of the room with Stark’s loud chuckle chasing her up the stairs.

When she’d said she wanted a refund for her shitty day, she never expected _THIS._ So help her, when she returned to Oz (and she would if she had to find a way to summon Odin himself), she was going to steal the biggest gun she could find and blast those sparkly aliens to Kingdom Come. This was their fault after all.

If she could just get through today, then she’d start looking for a way out tonight.

If _only_ things ever went Darcy’s way…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're here, you've made it with me through another chapter. YAY! I hope this translates well and you enjoyed it as much as the last chapter. Also I want to thank each and every one of you that left kudos and/or commented on the previous chapter. You all get a puppy for Christmas! I'll make Stark deliver them door to door. ;) I adore you all.
> 
> P.S. A Few Random Facts: 1. For Maria, (surprise!) think of a very classy yet down to earth Sigourney Weaver. 2. I know nothing of the comics and am flying by the seat of my pants and what the movies have shared. 3. The rating /will/ go up soon. Come on, it's Tony and Darcy, there's bound to be sexy fun times! 4. I promise to try my best and update once a week. And 5. You all are seriously awesome! 
> 
> Until next time. ~Sam.


	3. The Shark Named Clark Stark.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darcy sees a familiar face and falls asleep in her mashed potatoes.

Forty five minutes after the surreal experience of watching Maria Stark reprimand her son for pestering his wife, found Darcy loading Josh into what looked like for all intents and purposes a black SHIELD issued SUV. Apparently in this world Stark kept his flashier vehicles saved for special occasions, that or she (the other her) had demanded a normal car for the family.

At least her clothes here resembled her normal ones, she thought as she adjusted her bright blue cardigan over the black tank top she’d found in a drawer. (It was probably Tony’s and he was gonna be pissed when the girls stretched it out.) Her legs were encased in a pair of dark-wash jeans and her purple painted toes stood out proudly from her flip flops. 

She was a cool mom. ( _She needed a nerve pill.)_

Once the kid was safely buckled in, she shut the door only to find Tony standing a few feet away and eyeing her. Clearing her throat, Darcy stepped away from the SUV and gave him what she hoped passed for a polite smile.

“Don’t look so nervous, Steve’s going to be there, right?” The tension in Darcy’s shoulders eased a little at the mention of someone else she knew, and she shrugged in response. “Besides, you know you’ll have more fun than all of those kids put together.” 

He smirked, and okay, Darcy knew how to deal with a smirking Tony, “I’m not nervous, but I am going to be late!” she shot back and tried to edge between him and the back bumper of the car. When had he gotten closer? She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. 

“Nope, don’t think you’re getting out of here without a goodbye, Shortstack.” Her eyes went a little wide as he grabbed the lapels of her cardigan and hauled her against his chest, not giving her a chance to protest. Suddenly he was very close and _‘Oh my Thor, he’s going to kiss me. Help! Someone hel—‘_  

Darcy’s train of thought derailed when Tony’s head dipped in and his warm lips pressed against her own, regardless of the lipgloss she’d swiped on upstairs. Surprisingly, his kiss was gentle, teasing, more of a promise of what _could_ continue later. A steady grip on her hip ascends up her ticklish side to rest just under the swell of her left breast causing Darcy’s lips to part in a gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to sweep his tongue into the cavern of her mouth. He tastes of coffee and _fuck, she really had to get it together before the real her appeared and kicked her ass._

With a devil may care grin, Stark pulls back, gives her a pat on the ass, and pivots on his heels tossing over his shoulder, “ _Now_ you’re going to be late!” and disappears back into the house leaving Darcy to stand there in stunned silence.

“Mooooooooom, we’re gonna be laaaaate!!!”

Josh’s yelled complaint draws her from her haze and Darcy licks her lips with a shiver managing to croak out, “Right. Coming!” ( _She wasn’t coming yet, but oh, God she wanted to. Fucking Stark. Fuck him… Yep, she wanted to do that too. BAD DARCY. DOWN, GIRL! Child in the car, get in the damn car!)_

Shoving her traitorous hormones down, Darcy listens to her inner Jane and moves to the driver’s side, slipping into the SUV and finding the seat and mirrors adjusted just as she likes. Huh, guess this was a normal thing for her. Turning the engine over, (she’d cheated and went through her phone for important information while getting ready) she heads out towards the elementary school.

 

                                                                                                * * *

 

Getting to the school was no problem, corralling an excited kid in an unfamiliar place on the other hand was difficult. She gave up after the first five minutes after getting them both out of the car, instead taking his hand and telling him to lead the way. She was utterly unashamed to be letting a six year old herd her into the brightly lit halls with children running rampant.

Down one hall, a turn to the right and into a classroom that held painted murals on every wall had Darcy breathing a sigh of relief when Josh tugged his hand out of hers and sprinted over towards a cluster of kids. So that was how she’d kept her figure after two kids here. Good exercise. Straightening her bag on her shoulder she wandered over to one wall that depicted a Ferris wheel and a very fair-like vibe. The brushstrokes hit a chord of familiarity in her head, but she couldn’t place it.

“Oh good, you’re here! I brought coffee.”

A voice spoke to her left and she wanted to weep at both the owner of it and the mere mention of more coffee. Spinning, Darcy very nearly teared up at Steve’s smiling face. She _knew_ that he wasn’t _her_ Steve, but he’d always had this way of calming her frazzled nerves. ( _See, she was learning what was real and what wasn’t._ )

“You are a saint.” She spoke honestly as he handed her a paper cup of coffee that proudly boasted the name of some café she’d never heard of.

“Nah, I just knew you’d want that extra shot of caffeine.” His smile was knowing as he turned to stand next to her, following her gaze to the kids gathered in the corner. “I take it Mrs. Stark took Lee for the day and Tony begged off with work again?”

At Darcy’s nod and furrowed brow with the way he’d worded that, Steve gave her a gentle jostle with his elbow until she met his eyes again. “This weekend will be good for you both, but if you need me or Bucky, you’ve got our number.” She only nodded again, confusion settling into her gut like a lead weight. So many questions and slowly the big picture was being pieced together.

“Good.” He gave her a reassuring grin before taking a sip of his coffee and gesturing towards the kids. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Steve stepped away from her and instantly drew the children’s attention. She watched with a small smile as he put on his Captain America face and commanded the room. And just like that she knew why the murals seemed familiar, why the tree in Lee’s nursery did. Steve. Steve was an art teacher in this world. And he’d talked as if he and Barnes were okay, so at least they could be happy here, too.

Just then, Darcy’s thoughts were interrupted ( _that seemed to happen a lot here!)_ by a tug on her shirttail. She looked down expecting to find her son but instead she found a little boy with the darkest, shaggiest hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that she’d had directed at her more than once.

“Dad said I was supposed to ask you if Josh was still coming over this weekend. Somethin’ ‘bout he had to go to the store. He’s gonna get all my favorites and Josh’s! We’re gonna sleep in a tent on the back porch if it ain’t rainin’!” He paused for a breath and Darcy couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Should he bring his flashlight, too? You know there are bunnies out there, right?” She laughed at the roll of his eyes as he scuffed his toe against the floor.

“We ain’t afraid of no bunnies! Besides, Dad said he’d stand guard just in case.” He confessed with an adorable enthusiastic shake of his head.

“Well, then I suppose it’ll be okay if he stays then.” Darcy couldn’t contain the full out grin that spread across her face when he whooped in triumph and ran back over to the other kids. She watched as he slung an arm around Josh’s neck and stage whispered in his ear, his news causing them both to jump up and down in excitement.

Steve chose that moment to return to her side. “Uh oh, what’d he do this time?”

“He looks just like Barnes.” Darcy didn’t bother to keep the awe out of her voice as she replied with the wrong answer to his question

His face lit up, grin growing beautifully and eyes damn near twinkling as he nodded, his voice coming out soft and practically reverent; “I know… Makes me miss him even though I know I’m going home to him.” Thoughtfully Steve cocked his head and snorted. “He’s got my temper, though. Bucky denies that he’s his when he starts acting up. Tells me to go take care of ‘my son’.”

Laughing quietly, Darcy feels a pang of longing to know every aspect of their story here in this world. She knows Barnes wouldn’t risk having a kid in her real reality, not with HYDRA or his current state of mind, no matter how hard he’d worked to get back to his former self. She bites back a sigh, a growing pain of _‘I miss home; I want to go back to my home.’_ pushing just under her ribcage.

“Alright, time to go, you ready?” Steve asks and she manages to nod in agreement, clutching her bag to her side like a lifeline as he rounds up the kids with the help of his assistant, a skinny little blonde fresh out of high school and too peppy for Darcy’s tastes. She falls in line at the end of the group as they parade down the hall and back out into the sun. How hard could this be? Just fifteen kids going to an aquarium. Should be a piece of cake! Right?

 

                                                                                           * * *

 

“…And there was a shark! It went right over our heads, Daddy! I got to pet a stingray and Mom almost fell in. It was hilarious! We got LeLe a stuffed octopus and…”

Darcy wanted a piece of cake, and a bubble bath, and a bottle of Tony’s favorite whiskey even though it always burnt her throat. But instead, she was feeding herself and the baby mashed potatoes with a tired arm propped up on the kitchen table. Her other palm was supporting her cheek, her eyes heavy and she couldn’t stop yawning every other bite.

Whoever said being a parent was easy was a liar and their pants were on fire. She’d met the God of Thunder, Lady Sif and The Warriors Three; she’d slow danced with a master assassin. She’d done yoga with Bruce Banner and fed and watered three of the most brilliant people she’d ever met including him. Darcy had once made Coulson _laugh out loud_ (at Barton’s expense).

Her point, you ask? She would never give the evil eye to another harried looking mother again when their kid started screaming. She was so tired that she was sure she could feel each of her toes actually throb in time with her sluggish pulse. Josh continued to babble on, the sound of his voice mingled with the deep tone of Tony’s thrown in words here and there had long since become background noise for her.

She’d come home to find a missing Tony and while Josh had taken a short nap, Maria had popped back in long enough to drop off Lee and a gallon of milk. From then on Darcy had found herself cleaning, (out of habit) entertaining the baby and Josh, and making dinner once six had rolled around. As if summoned by the smell of food, Stark showed up with a pencil stuck behind his ear and still in the same clothes she’d left him in that morning.

During the day she’d come to learn that Tony was in fact an engineer and worked for his father. (Thanks to Google.) He was the VP of Stark Industries and apparently this was the cause of the rift in their marriage. He preferred his work over his wife and Darcy was a lot sad that even in this realm that he had the same habits. Whether those leaned towards women and alcohol here, too, she wasn’t sure…

“Darce, you’re making a mess…” Tony’s bemused comment caused her to jump and drop the spoon she’d been spilling food from onto the baby’s tray instead of reaching her mouth.

“Shit, sorry.” She fumbled to clean up the mess and ignore the blush of embarrassment crawling up her neck.

“Dollar for the swear jar, Mom.” Josh informed her through a bite of green beans.

A yawn attacking her face made her response sound like a Vulcan screech as she waved off the little boy and stood to her feet to grab a dishtowel. But before she could skirt by Tony’s chair, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. His nose nuzzled in the crook of her shoulder and her protesting yelp was bitten off by a groan.

“I’ll put Josh to bed, why don’t you take Lee up and go take a shower? You smell like children.”

“You know, that was sweet until that last part there.”

“Really? I thought it was charming and honest.” 

His yelp from where she’d tugged on his ear harder than necessary to drag his face away from where it had been creeping closer to her cleavage was followed by a grunt as she pushed off his lap.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, though. Thanks.” Darcy quickly (as quick as her tired legs would work) goes back to her previous route to the island for the dishtowel. She listens to Tony talk easily with Josh as they go about cleaning up their places, Darcy going behind them to wipe down the table before tackling Lee’s messy face and hands.

Once things are put away, clean, and the two men of the house are gone to the family room, Darcy lifts Lee out of her highchair and makes her way upstairs to get the little girl ready for bed. While changing her diaper and putting her pajamas on, Darcy tells herself not to get attached to the big brown eyes that are blinking sleepily up at her. When she settles into the rocking chair in the corner and hums softly as the baby curls into her embrace, she tells herself not to get attached. She _can’t_.

With the baby sleeping quietly, Darcy darts into the master bedroom, grabbing a pair of sleep shorts and a SI t-shirt before slipping into the adjoining bathroom. A quick shower washes away the day’s grime and some of her stress, but leaves behind a weird nervousness. She was going to sleep with Tony Stark. Just _sleep_ , but you know what she meant. Closest she’d ever come to that was crashing on the couch in the common room when sleep deprivation caught up with the both of them. Now she actually shared a room, a _bed_ with the man. So if she was a little jumpy, sue her.

Towel drying her hair, she opens the bathroom door and nearly runs right into Tony. He catches her with steadying hands on her hips and a chuckle then informs her that Josh was waiting to be tucked in. Mumbling an apology, she makes a hasty retreat into the hall and down to their son’s room.

Slinging her damp towel over her shoulders, she steps further into the room admiring the sight of the little boy cuddled up in his bed and clutching the stuffed shark that she’d bought that day. It warms her heart, but it shouldn’t, _‘Don’t get attached.’_ her mind and her heart speak in tandem, this time in her mother’s voice.

“You name him yet?” She asks him when she sits down on the side of his bed.

“Brady named his Dude. I think I wanna name mine Clark after Superman, though.”

Smiling warmly, Darcy nods seriously at the little boy and says, “I like it. He looks like a Clark.”

He nods back and yawns and she goes with her instincts; she leans down kissing his forehead and pulls his covers up over him and Clark a little more, whispering a “Goodnight, Kid.” Darcy’s almost at the door when she hears him say in a sleepy voice, “Night, Mom. Love you.”

Her heart skips a beat at the sweetness of this imaginary kid and instead of replying she turns the light off and pulls the door nearly shut. She _cannot, under any circumstance_ get attached. She repeats it like a mantra as she walks back to the bedroom she shares with Stark.

Darcy climbs into the bed not really paying attention to her surroundings until she hears the sound of water hitting tile. Glancing in the direction of the bathroom, she nearly has a heart attack. She’s seen plenty of naked men in her day, hell; she’s even seen Tony almost bare-assed while drunk before. But this, this is different.

Tony is in the shower and the bathroom door is standing wide open, almost as if Fate’s tempting her. The water cascades over his shoulders and travels down the planes of his back to trip across the swell of his ass. She stares in blatant fascination as his arms flex where they rise for hands to card through his wet hair, slicking it back. She has the overwhelming urge, no, that isn’t right; it is a _need_ to strip bare and join him, to follow those streams of water with her mouth. Darcy wants to touch and taste every inch of skin that decorates his frame, she wants to lose herself in a way that she promised she never would.

This rolling ball of want twists in her gut and she’s halfway off the bed before she realizes what she’s doing. Dragging in a resetting breath, she averts her eyes, (more like has to rip her gaze away) even going as far as taking her glasses off and placing them on her nightstand. Diving under the covers after turning the light on her side off, she pulls them up to her chin and feigns sleep.

Maybe if she’s asleep he won’t try to do anything, because her will was weak after seeing that. _‘So, so, so damn weak.’_   Darcy finds that she doesn’t have to fake it, though. Her body is more than willing to sink into the mattress and offer her a respite. She drifts off only blinking awake when a warmth settles at her back and strong arms tug her back against a steady heartbeat. And Darcy, she dreams.

 

                                                                                          * * *

 

_Bright lights flicker in rapid succession, muffled voices shout, and she can’t lift her arms. It feels like her limbs are weighted down with dumbbells, and there’s a metallic stench that irritates her sense of smell. She wants to speak, to demand that someone tell her what’s going on but she can’t find her voice. She tries to open her mouth but nothing comes out. And someone is yelling, they sound like a dying animal and she wishes they would shut up, it’s annoying. A flash of light shines in her eyes and she wants to curse, she tries to, but to no avail._

_And what the_ **hell** _is that? A burning sensation rockets through her veins and she thinks suddenly that, fuck, I don’t wanna be a vampire! A fire ignites in her side and her muscles twitch and that’s when she hears it again. Oh, she thinks, that’s me yelling. I’m the annoying one. Wait, why am I yelling?_

_“Going into shock. I need—“_

_Shock? She was going into shock? WHY? What the fuck was going on? Why did she feel like Bella Swan? Where was all of this pain coming from? The voices get a little clearer, as if a veil has been lifted and she strains to concentrate on anything that isn’t the pain coursing through her body._

_“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark but you cannot be in here!”_

_“I don’t give a fuck wha—“_

_“Tony, TONY! Stop, come on, let them help her.”_

_The voices go fuzzy again and she fails to cling to reality as a blessed numbing sensation swallows her whole, washing out the pain and everything with it. Darcy doesn’t try to speak anymore and everything goes silent._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finding that every time I sit down to write a chapter it just flows so easily and more things keep popping up in my head. I blame Darcy and her coffee keeping me up so late just to write and your all's comments making me want to! Anywho, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. As usual, leave a sacrifice for the witch and she just might update quicker. She also takes cute coffee mugs and chocolate as payment. ;)


	4. Yoga Thursdays, Bitches!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Darcy does yoga with some hot people, builds a fantastical blanket fort, and takes a swim...

Darcy awoke with a start, her hand flailing out from underneath the covers to slap a palm down on the snooze button effectively throwing the room into silence. Pressing her face into her pillow with a muffled groan, she squeezed her eyes tighter shut so not ready to face the day. She vaguely remembered her dream, but couldn’t pin point more than bright lights and yelled threats.

For ten (nine) amazing minutes she lies there, sleep warm, content to drift back to sleep and forget why she should be moving; and then her alarm sounds again. With a growl of frustration, Darcy throws the covers viciously off of her and scrabbles with the antique looking alarm clock before finally managing to turn it off for good.

Groping for her glasses after rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she dares to glance at the other side of the bed and finds it empty. The sheets are cold when she rubs her fingertips across them. The clock informs her that it’s thirteen minutes after six and she fights back a groan. People who were up before nine (noon) were a mystery to her.

Forcing herself out of the comfort of the bed, Darcy moves into the bathroom to get ready before attempting to get two mini-humans ready, too.

 

                                                                                                      * * *

 

With Lee happily chewing on her stuffed octopus and Joshua humming along to whatever song was currently spilling from the speakers next to his sister, Darcy couldn’t help but feel a little accomplished and proud of herself. It’d only taken her forty-five minutes to get all three of them ready, fed, and out the door. ( _Thank you Stark, for the hot coffee._ )

Turning into the elementary school parking lot, she notices Maria Hill talking to another adult and smiling down at a little girl and does a double take. She’d read about the school after finding out Steve was the art teacher and had completely dismissed the ‘Principal Hill’. Well, it seemed like the woman was a BAMF in every world!

Slipping into the line of cars, she can’t quite hide the grin that curves her mouth up when Steve notices her SUV and jogs over with Brady hot on his heels. She rolls her window completely down and they round the car and Brady opens the door for Josh, the boys already babbling excitedly.

“Good morning, Darcy, Josh.” He returns her grin before he leans into the backseat to speak to the baby, Lee letting out a squeal of glee at his face while waving her toy at his head. 

“A good mornin’ to you too, Steve. Hello, Brady. Keep Josh out of trouble today, alright?” She laughs lightly at her son’s exasperated groan.

“I will, I promise! Come on, Daddy-O!” Brady responds and Josh yelps as Steve effortlessly picks him up, backpack and all to hover in front of her window after closing the back door.

“Let Josh say goodbye first, Mr. Impatient.” The boys roll their eyes in sync but Josh does as he’s told and leans in the window smacking a wet kiss to her cheek and squeezing his arms around her head, knocking her glasses crooked.

Sputtering, Darcy adjusts her frames and gives the miniature Stark a gentle headbutt accompanied by a grin. “See ya around, Old Sport!”

Steve chuckles at her horrid Gatsby impersonation and drops Josh back to his feet next to his son and places an anchoring hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll take it from here. Drive safe, Doll.” His wink is mischievous and it still makes her blush even in this world.

Offering the three of them a wave, Darcy rolls her window back up and pulls out of the line she’d been holding up, a warm smile stuck to her face like a fly to sticky paper. During breakfast she’d taken a second to scroll through her schedule, the post-it note on the fridge in Tony’s tightly scrawled writing stating that he wanted a certain kind of beer (‘ _not to drink, to put in my chili next week_ ’) alerted her that a trip to the grocery store was a must.

 

                                                                                                  * * *

 

Darcy was pretty sure there were cheerios in her cleavage both dry and soggy, and she was going to stop wearing tank-tops around this baby. Hefting the last couple bags of groceries up so she could open the door for the fourth time, she heaved a sigh of relief as she shut it back with her foot. Huffing out a breath to dislodge a curl that had fallen from her messy bun atop her head to annoy the shit out of her, she makes her way back to the kitchen, all the while Lee babbling incoherently and banging little fists against her throat and chest.

Setting the bags down, she readjusts the baby and stands there with her empty hand perched on her hip just to _breathe_. Taking a teething baby to the grocery store wasn’t a great idea, but she’d had no other choice. Giving her cheerios to occupy her and serve as a snack (for them both, Darcy has no shame), maybe hadn’t been the best idea either but it worked! Now, she just had to clean the carnage of fallen cheerio soldiers out her cleavage.

Dragging the playpen from the family room into the kitchen, Darcy plops Lee into its confines, making sure she had toys and her new octopus, before spinning around to stand over the trashcan and dig the cheerios out of her shirt. Once satisfied that she’s free of cereal, she gets to work putting away the groceries and by default figuring out where everything goes.

She’s on the last bag, just straightening up from where she’d been shoving cans into a cabinet next to the fridge, when the doorbell rings. Mumbling to herself and Lee, she turns to get the baby only to notice that the little girl is curled up in the middle of her toys and drooling adorably. She hadn’t even noticed that the baby’s babbles had stopped while she was busy, and yeah, she could use a nap too and it was only eleven. Good Lord.

Oh-so-gently pulling the (rolling, _thank, Thor_ ) playpen back into the family room, Darcy makes sure Lee is still sleeping before she steps quietly to the front door. She doesn’t bother to look through the peephole to see who it is; instead she cracks it open and is greeted by four faces she knows. Surprise hits her in the middle and she’s only able to smile dumbly.

“Uh, hi..?” is her very eloquent greeting and it’s answered by varying shades of amused and exasperated smiles.

“You gonna let us in, or just stand there and stare at us, Stark?”

The name jars her from her shocked state and she steps back opening the door wide. “Lee’s asleep, so shhhh.” She informs them and offers Barnes a glare as he strolls in behind a smiling Bruce.

“Aw, she’s already taking a nap?” Jane asks from where she’s kicking her shoes off next to a smug looking Bucky.

Humming in response, Darcy shuts the door behind Natasha and turns noting that they all have workout clothes on and are each toting yoga mats. Apparently Yoga Thursdays are a thing here. She offers them all a smile and excuses herself to go upstairs and change and slips from the hall while they talk amongst themselves. When she gets back downstairs, (she’d found her own yoga mat on a bottom shelf in her and Tony’s closet) she moves into the family room finding her four friends scattered around the floor, the playpen situated under the archway leading to Josh’s play room. There’s an open spot between Barnes and Natasha and she nervously (and correctly) guesses that it’s been left vacant for her.

“Alright, Maestro, where’s our music? You know your kid could sleep through a hurricane.”

Darcy makes a helpless hand gesture towards the complicated sound system in the corner shelf before straightening her spine and slipping past Barnes with a thwack to his shoulder just like she would in her world, and finds an iPod already hooked up. Scrolling through the playlists she nearly shouts in victory at her other self’s ability to name playlists as she selects the ‘Thursday Yoga, Bitches!’ one and hits play.

Calming and melodic music instantly streams from the surround sound speakers throughout the room and Darcy walks back over to her spot, only half paying attention to the small talk that somehow soothes her. As she rolls out her mat she catches Natasha’s gaze and the other woman arches a perfectly sculpted brow at her. Darcy just offers her a smile and prays that she’s playing her part on cue.

Twenty minutes later and Darcy is bent in a shape she didn’t think was humanly possible, but her body actually feels _amazing._ She’s laughing at some story Jane is telling about Thor and staring unashamedly at Barnes’ ass, nearly groaning when she has to change sides. (Then she gets to stare at Natasha’s so it’s really a win-win.)

“You and Stark are still bringing Josh over Saturday morning, right? Brady won’t shut up about it.” Barnes speaks with a fond huff from behind her and Darcy nods her head the best she can from her position, giving him a thumbs up behind her back.

“Far as I know,” she wheezes out while unfolding herself back into an easy stretch, “I don’t know when we’re leaving or where we’re going, but you and Steve get Josh and we’re taking Lee to Mama Stark’s.”

Darcy is suddenly struck with a sense of _what the actual fuck_ because she doesn’t know _how_ she knew that. She hadn’t talked to Tony or Maria. Other than when Brady mentioned it the day before, she’d never heard any exact details. _‘Okaaay, that’s weird…’_ her brain not so helpfully comforts her with.

“Ha, I know where he’s taking you!” Bruce sing-songs from in front of her and she happens to notice that all-knowing look on Natasha’s features as well.

“Alright, out with it, then! You all know I’m not good with surprises, so fess up.”

No one says a word, save for Bruce calling out their next position, but they all have smirks on their faces. Damn them, damn them all, even here they’re banded against her. As she twists and stretches into the move, she scowls opening her mouth to pester them all into giving her the information she wants, but she’s interrupted by the sound of a cry coming from the playpen.

“I’ve got her!” Jane quick like and in a hurry straightened and skipped over to Darcy’s daughter.

She snaps her mouth shut drawing a snort from Natasha and Darcy childishly sticks her tongue out at her causing the redhead to shake her head at her antics. Closing her eyes, she breathes through the stretch of her muscles, thanking ( _her_ ) Thor that she’d had the thought to change into an amazingly supportive sports bra earlier.

Rolling out of the position and onto her back for the cool down after Jane insisted that she could handle the baby for a few minutes, Darcy relaxes against her mat, the music thrumming along with her heartbeat, and the sounds of her friends’ quiet breaths aiding in her relaxation. She could get used to this, in her world, she means. Not staying here because that would just be _silly_!

The music trails off leaving the room silent other than Jane’s quiet voice murmuring to the baby in the kitchen and Barnes’ stomach chooses that moment to growl in hungry disdain, throwing them all into laughter. Sitting up, Darcy pokes Bucky’s left arm (noting that it’s still his prosthetic minus the faded red star) and grins.

“Want me to make you a sandwich? I’ll make us all lunch, come on.” She doesn’t give him (or them) time to object as she rises to her feet and leaves them behind, heading to the kitchen where Jane and Lee are. Jane already had the baby in her high chair and was in the process of opening a jar of food with a questioning glance that Darcy waves off.

Getting out the fixings for sandwiches, Darcy sets to work making lunch while the others trickle into the kitchen. Bruce offers to help and she puts him to work slicing tomatoes while Bucky and Natasha lean against the island talking to each other. Once the food is ready she makes Barnes help her carry it to the table and Natasha fixes drinks. Darcy doesn’t question how she knows each of their preferences, instead making the excuse to herself that it was from where she was in the tower kitchen so much when they ate.

After lunch she gets a hug from each of them; a perky “Good luck!” from Jane, a “Call me when you get back.” from Natasha, and a “See you Saturday.” from Barnes. And just like that they’re gone and she’s left having a staring contest with the baby perched on her hip who was happily content to play bongos on Darcy’s sweaty cleavage. Bouncing the little girl carefully along to the music that was a constant thing in Darcy’s brain, she grinned as Lee laughed.

Yeah, that thing where she wasn’t supposed to get attached? _She’s so fucked._

                                                                                               * * *

 

That night, Darcy has supper ready and on the table but it’s for nothing. Tony doesn’t show. He doesn’t call or anything. When Josh asks her if his daddy was working late again, she has to bite back her rage when his face falls and he chooses to sit next to her and not across from her with Tony’s empty chair between them. She pastes on a fake smile and goes out of her way to shower him and Lee with attention, making up (not so) off the wall stories about metal aliens that breathe fire and a noble knight who slays the dragon with an enchanted hammer. She misses Thor so much after she promises to make a blanket fort with the little boy and tell him more, that when she’s washing dishes she doesn’t bother stopping the tears that roll down her face.

When everything’s put away, she plops Lee down in her playpen while her and Josh builds a blanket fort of epic proportions. The floor padded by the cover and pillows off of her own bed, Lee’s nightlight that spins and projects light through the cutouts throwing colorful shapes along the fabric walls, Clark and other toys litter the space and Darcy takes pride in Josh’s wide eyes and sudden tight hug around her hips. Settling into the fort with Lee on her lap and Josh snuggled up to her side, she lures them all into a trance as she weaves a story that makes her miss her world and all its weirdness.

Time ticks away slowly, with the baby losing interest in the pretty lights and nodding off against her chest, the little boy trying his hardest to stay awake but fighting a losing battle as he too falls asleep against her side. Darcy doesn’t have the heart to move just yet and that’s how Tony finds them. She’s nearly half-asleep herself when she hears the front door shut softly, but ringing out in the quiet.

She waits and soon sees shiny dress-shoes at the entrance of the fort where her feet dangle off of the makeshift padding and then he slowly lifts up the baby blanket that masquerades as a door, peering inside with raised brows. Darcy doesn’t give him time to speak.

“Turn the overhead light off, please,” she says in a hushed tone, “then help me get them to bed.”

He doesn’t respond, but he does step back letting the blanket fall back into place and a few seconds later darkness blankets the family room while Lee’s nightlight spins on inside the sanctuary of the blanket fort. Tony easily dismantles her hard work and picks his son up after helping her stand with the baby. He gives her a concerned look as if her silence is bothersome and all Darcy can think is; _‘Oh, bother. I couldn’t have said it better, Pooh Bear.’_

She follows him up the stairs taking note of the tailored suit that hugs his frame and stamps down an appreciative sigh. They part in the hall and she takes Lee to her room, laying the baby down after a quick diaper change and Darcy finds herself bending down and kissing the little girl’s brow whispering a goodnight with a soothing caress of fingers over her soft hair.

Noticing that the baby’s octopus and undoubtedly Clark are still downstairs with her blankets, she leaves Lee’s room and goes back downstairs to fetch them. Making quick work of cleaning up their mess, she meets Tony on the stairs on her way back upstairs and she climbs past him with nothing more than a; “Your supper is in the oven if you’re hungry.”

He doesn’t say a word.

Darcy returns the stuffed animals to their owners and says goodnight to them one more time then retreats to the master bedroom. As she gets ready for bed, she sorts through her swirling emotions and finds them lacking and a little heartbreaking. She wants to go back to her world but at the same time she’ll miss this one and all its extra little things.

But she won’t miss this Tony’s behavior. At least in her world if he pisses her off she can leave the tower, or get Jarvis to lock down her room where he can’t bother her. Here, she has to sleep next to him. And she isn’t attached, she _isn’t_ , but she really feels for her alternate self here. And did she mention that she misses Jarvis too? She can’t talk to the ceiling in this place and have it snark back at her in a posh British accent.

Shaking off those kinds of thoughts, she attempts to think of all the positive things that happened today, and strips down to take a quick shower while Stark does whatever it was that he did when he missed nights at home with his family. (Being positive fails while she’s rinsing her hair out and a sadness creeps into her bones.)

Out of the shower in a record ten (okay, fifteen) minutes, Darcy slathers lotion on her frame before drying her hair half-heartedly. Emerging from the bathroom, she ignores the light on and the movement in the walk-in closet and slips into her side of the bed, cover freshly fixed from its earlier romp on the floor.

She doesn’t get to pretend to be asleep tonight.

Tony shuts off the light and slips into the bathroom, but is only out of sight for ten minutes. Darcy’s hectic head won’t allow her to drift off no matter how hard she tries and she’s still awake when he climbs into bed beside her. He’s careful not to touch her, whether he senses her anger and hurt or not, she doesn’t know. His voice is loud to her ears in the stillness of the room when he speaks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call… A meeting ran late and I couldn’t get away. Then dad wanted to speak to me and I just lost track of time.”

“It’s fine.” Her reply is merely a whisper and she shivers when a fingertip glides down her arm.

“No, it isn’t. I know you, Sweetheart, you only build forts when you’re stressed and want to hide.” His voice shouldn’t be so warm, so inviting, so _knowing_ …

“It’s over and done with. I promise.” She isn’t above pleading if it will buy her an out right now.

“Darcy, I said I was sorry… Forgive me, please? Pretty please?” Her eyes squeeze shut in the childish belief that if she can’t see him he can’t see her, but the warm press of lips that mark the skin of her shoulder and makes it tingle force her to give in. (Just a little. Where’s the harm?)

“Fine, you’re forgiven only if you’ll tell me where we’re going this weekend.” She rolls over onto her back and stares up at his features that are just a little out of focus without her glasses and the lack of light.

His only answer is a deep chuckle that causes her stomach muscles to clench and he follows it up with a kiss. She could easily block him with the excuse that she’s still pissed, or that he didn’t answer her demand (which she is and he didn’t!) but she doesn’t. She just lets him kiss her.

This time he doesn’t have to trick her mouth open, nope, it opens up after a few simple swipes of his tongue along the seam of her lips. Darcy’s arms come up to loop around his neck as her lashes flutter closed. Tony kisses her like he has all the time in the world, fingers of one hand sinking into her still damp strands as he cants his head for a better angle. Their mouths slot together while their tongues dance lazily to some unknown but well rehearsed tune.

He only stops to come up for air and they both stare at each other in the dark room, Darcy with a new favorite hobby and Tony with a knowing smile. He places one last peck to her lips before manhandling her onto her side with her head pillowed on his chest, his heart thumping steady and sure against her ear. Darcy nods off not five minutes later...

 

                                                                                                * * *

 

_She feels like she’s floating and she can’t grasp anything. She watches her hands drift out in front of her but she can’t voluntarily move them._ Huh, _Darcy thinks and watches a lock of her hair wave languidly across her vision. She remembers when she was ten and used to go swimming at her aunt’s and her favorite thing to do was take a deep breath and sink to the bottom of the pool. She’d watch everything blur in slow motion and sometimes she’d pretend she was a mermaid._

_It sounds and looks just like that now, wherever she is, everything all water logged and muffled. She thinks she likes it here, but of course that’s when an incessant beeping penetrates her hideaway. Darcy wills her arms to move so she can swat at whatever it is but it just isn’t possible._

_And for a few seconds the voices get a little clearer, like when you breach the surface of the water and everything’s too loud all at once. She can just make out who they belong to and what’s being said._

_“…need to eat, Stark. Sitting here on your ass staring at our girl isn’t going to help her. And you need a shower. I’ll stay; go back to the tower just for a while.”_

_“Don’t you have something better to do than harass me, Rambo?”_

_“Fine! I told Steve you wouldn’t move your stubborn ass. Natasha’s next. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”_

_“I’m not leaving her… I can’t.”_

_Darcy frowns as the voices stop after what sounds like a door shutting with a too forced snick, Nonono, she wants to stay. She wants to know why Stark of all people doesn’t want to leave, and why he even went as far as sassing Barnes. Last time he’d tried that Bucky had crushed one of the gauntlets of his suit that he’d been working on._

_The beeping continues and lulls her back into the warm cocoon of nothingness, leaving her questions completely unanswered._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank each and every one of you for all of the amazing feedback this has received so far. I never, ever expected such a great response to my little idea! So from the very bottom of my black heart I thank you!


	5. The Not So Ninja (and her newly Romanian son).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is a very bad ninja and a crybaby. And her daughter is going to be one hell of a dictator. (It's all Disney's fault.)

This time Darcy wakes with a sudden start. Shooting up out of the safe haven of the covers, the beeping from her dream loud and demanding, she gasps for breath feeling like she’d held hers under water for too long. Her vision is blurry and no matter how much she blinks she can’t shake the film that seems to cover her eyes. She doesn’t understand and struggles to comprehend the conversation she’d heard between Stark and Barnes.

A movement in her peripheral catches her attention, her head whipping around to squint at the figure posed between the foot of the bed and the bathroom door. The beeping is incessant and she wants to cover her ears and shrink away from the distorted person. Instead she gropes behind her for her glasses and shoves them on her face.

“I know I’m not the hottest thing in the morning, but I really don’t think you need to cry about it…”

Darcy blinks, her gaze still hazy as she watches Tony unfreeze from his place and cross back to the bed, settling down next to her hip, too close. She doesn’t want to be touched and she doesn’t know why. Something’s off, but her body betrays her when Stark’s ( _no, Tony’s_ ) arms wrap around her shoulders and urge her to lean into his side. He raises a hand once she’s melted into his warm embrace and a thumb gently swipes something wet from her cheek and Darcy thinks; _‘Oh.’_

“Hey, you’re okay, Sweetheart. Whatever it was, it was just a dream.”

She gulps down the hysterical sob that tries to build in her throat and rise like bile, the urge to accuse that _he’s_ the dream lying in wait on the back of her tongue just waiting for her to open her mouth. Darcy moves with him as he leans past her left shoulder to turn off her alarm clock and when he settles back, he presses a hot mug of steaming coffee into her hands. She grips it like a lifeline.

“Here, I made you coffee, drink it and I promise you’ll feel better after you get woke up.”

Tony presses his lips tenderly to her forehead and squeezes her tightly before releasing her and standing. She watches him walk into the bathroom, the door closing behind him with a soft snick. Darcy lets out a breath, turns and sits her coffee down before flopping back onto the mattress. She lies there trying to get her bearings, fighting the frustrating tears that are still leaking from the corners of her eyes.

In her dream she’d listened to two of the men in her life argue, that was nothing new. But what they were saying and the way Stark’s voice had sounded so defeated… She just couldn’t understand it. Why on earth would he be staying by _her_ bedside? They were just friends (her unrequited crush of massive proportions, totally not talking about that).

So, why her?

Groaning, Darcy tugs her glasses off and rubs viciously at her tearstained face. She didn’t have time for this shit. She had to get Josh ready for school. She had to pack her and Tony’s bags for the next day. With that determination, she sits up once again grabbing her coffee and sipping it.

Tony sings in the shower while Darcy gets ready. When he emerges he asks her to make sure to pack one of his good suits, and also informs her to pack ‘that little black dress, you know, the one with all the lace. I like that one.’ He kisses her before he leaves, kisses a smiling (probably just gas) Lee, hugs Josh, and tells them he’ll be home for dinner; he just has to take care of a few things last minute before they leave the next day. Darcy tries really hard to be excited.

But nothing is enough to erase the sound of _her_ Tony’s quietly and harsh whispered; _‘I’m not leaving her…I can’t.’_

 

                                                                                          * * *

 

Darcy held out a shirt towards the baby and asked. “Yay or nay? Where did I even buy this? It’s hideous!”

Lee babbles on noncommittally as if stating her very own adorable opinion.

“You’re right; I should give this to Jane or something. Ew.” She tosses the ugly pea-green silk thing onto the foot of the bed and grins when Lee squeals happily while waving her octopus around. She’s currently in the middle of the bed supported and surrounded by pillows and piles of clothes. What? Darcy never claimed to be neat, but she was resourceful and got shit done.

After dropping Josh off at school and ignoring Steve’s concerned face, her and Lee had returned back to the house and spent most of the morning watching cartoons and vegging out (and by vegging she means potato chips were the only vegetable included). When lunch rolled around she’d realized she’d wasted too much time wallowing, fed Lee something edible, and stuck her on her bed for a nap so she could pack.

After an hour the baby had woken up surrounded by clothes and had happily begun chewing on her toy, content to be her mother’s peanut gallery. Instead of _only_ packing for two nights, Darcy had had the bright idea to go through her closet (and Tony’s). There was music playing from her iPod that was docked on her dresser and she was more settled than she’d been since she’d woken up that morning.

“Alright, kid, we need to buckle down and get this done. We’ve got two hours before we have to go get your brother. Don’t look at me like that! I know he’s a smelly little boy with cooties but he lives here. Or do you want to ship him off, huh? Maybe to Bucharest?”

At Lee’s trill of baby language, Darcy nods and responds with, “That’s what I thought. You’re a tough cookie. I like that. Romania it is!”

An hour and forty five minutes later and Darcy has both her and Tony’s bags packed, the bedroom close to looking normal again, and a bag of clothes for Jane. Her other self was going to be so pissed when she got back and realized that a good chunk of her clothes were gone. Suddenly Darcy wonders if they’ve switched places and the other one is with her friends at the tower. She was going to be extremely angry if that was the case.

Realizing the time, Darcy gets Lee into the car and heads out to pick up Josh.

 

                                                                                            * * *

 

Playing Hide-and-Go-Seek with a six year old may or may not have been Darcy’s most awesome choice that day, especially in an only somewhat familiar house, but let’s face it, it was hella fun! She was out of breath and pulling funny faces at Lee completely ruining her reputation of being a stealthy hider and she could hear Josh’s little feet pattering down the hall heading directly for their not-so-covert position. (Wedged between the couch and the wall with a baby blanket over her head)

“Mom! I can see your feet and hear LeLe!!!

Snickering, Darcy tosses off the blanket and snaps her fingers dramatically and drawls out, “Drats! We’ve been found out. Wherever will we hide now?!”

Her son just rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the silly grin on his face as she shimmies out of the spot, Lee held securely in her arms.

“Can we play videogames next? Pleaaaaaase? I promise to do my homework before supper! Can we, mom, please?”

And really, how is she supposed to deny that face anything?

When Tony finds them two hours later, Darcy is sitting in the middle of the floor, Indian style and on top of the couch cushions, Josh to her right, and Lee in her lap with chubby fingers desperately reaching for the controller held in Darcy’s death-grip. They’re playing Mario Cart ( _Thank God, it’s the N64 version and she’s in heaven!)_ and they aren’t very quiet about it. Josh has beaten her three times and proceeds to _keep_ kicking her ass. He’s definitely a Stark, she’ll give him that.

At the sound of a throat clearing, Darcy’s head snaps around to find Tony standing in the doorway of the family room. His suit jacket is dangling from a single finger over his shoulder, his sleeves have been rolled up to showcase his forearms, he’s in his socks, and Darcy wants to eat him alive. Rather inelegantly, she loses upon her sudden distraction ( _so worth it_ ) and when Josh lets out a victory shout, she concedes defeat telling him it’s time for homework. ( _She doesn’t grin slyly as his shout becomes a moan. Nope, not her. Except she totally does.)_

Prying her forgotten controller out of Lee’s clutches and shooing Josh off to fetch his backpack, she heaves to her feet and glances back at Tony who is still standing there just _smirking_ at her.

“I kinda lost track of time. Just let me clean this up and I’ll throw something together for supper.” She nods matter O’ factly and casually strolls over to put Lee in her playpen for a minute so she can be an adult and not mope that she’d lost to a six year old.

“Don’t rush on my account.” He says and she turns around coming face to chin with him, Um… He wasn’t a ninja or an assassin so when’d he learn to do that?

“Okaaay…” Darcy meets his gaze just as his hands settle on her hips. Her pulse kicks into second gear watching him lean into her space and her eyes close when his lips make contact with her own. She doesn’t even give it a second thought and loops her arms around his neck, angling her head to the left and nipping at his bottom lip. That earns her a bite to her own lip and his hands sliding from her hips to the small of her back, pulling her flush against his frame. Darcy’s fingers thread through his hair, the desire to muck it up like she’s always loved watching him do when he got really tired, it possesses her digits and he practically purrs int—

“YUCK!”

Darcy has the decency to blush as Tony pulls away with a final smack of his lips against hers and she stares in dumbfounded adoration (embarrassment) as he removes himself to give his son a mock stern glare.

“Don’t knock it, one day we’ll be beating the chicks off of our front porch with a broom handle.”

Josh gives his father a disgusted face and feigns gagging and Tony just ruffles his hair, grabs his discarded suit jacket, and makes to leave the room. Darcy having finally found the light switch to her brain huffs and says in a frustrated tone; “You have GOT to stop doing that!”

The sound of Tony’s laughter lingers in the hall once he’s out of sight.

Once dinner is over (she’d made homemade pizza much to Josh’s delight) and the dishes are put away it’s early enough for them to huddle up on the couch and watch a movie. Josh settles on the floor in front of their legs with a Finding Nemo sleeping bag that had seen better days and Tony sits close to Darcy with Lee (a little fussy thanks to teething) nestled against his chest. Darcy wants to cry at the picture they make, the baby gnawing on Tony’s knuckles like a little hungry zombie. They watch Hercules (Darcy’s favorite).

She cries when Meg dies, and when Hercules goes all the way to Hades to fetch her soul back, and at the end when he chooses Meg over all of the power and station of his inheritance. Darcy tries really hard not to think about the similarities of that last part. Lee falls asleep with her head on Tony’s left shoulder, drooling onto the cotton of his v-neck as Darcy who is snuggled against his right side sniffles and wipes at her cheeks. Josh breathes deeply where he’s curled up in front of them.

Tony rests a cheek against her hair and she feels his voice rumble through his torso as his hand trails fingertips leisurely up and down her arm where her sleeve is rucked up.

“If you’ll get him, I’ll follow you up.”

Darcy nods and reluctantly pulls herself away from his warmth. She leaves the credits rolling, humming along and gently maneuvering Josh into her arms before glancing back at Tony, whispering as she smoothes down the little boy’s hair; “I still need to pack his bag for this weekend so I’ll be a few.”

She waits for his nod and makes her way out of the room and up the stairs to her son’s room. Once he’s tucked in, Darcy puts together enough clothes for three days and all the other things a little boy could possibly want to take with him to a sleepover. Hearing Tony in Lee’s room down the hall, she sneaks back downstairs, turning the TV off and folding Josh’s sleeping bag so he could take it with him, lying it on top of his filled to bursting bag and backpack so he wouldn’t forget it. Save for Clark and the boy himself, she was pretty sure she hadn’t missed anything.

After getting a drink and making sure the door was locked, Darcy goes back upstairs to the master bedroom where Tony was already under the covers and propped up against the headboard with his laptop perched on a pillow on his lap.

“What time are we leaving in the morning? I didn’t give Steve or Bucky a set time that we’d be there, did you?” He doesn’t answer right away so she retreats into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. When she returns to the bedroom, she glances at Tony where he scowls at his screen.

“Earth to Stark…” A pang of melancholy hits Darcy in the gut like a punch from one of Natasha’s lethal fists.

“What? Oh, sorry, yeah, we can leave here at nine? I’ll set my alarm and get you up.” He finally responds and Darcy nods, happy that the beeping thing won’t scare her awake again and that she’ll get to sleep in a little bit.

“Sounds good to me, Iro—“

Darcy swallows around the sudden lump in her throat, very happy that Tony is distracted by whatever he’s reading. Taking her glasses off and placing them on her nightstand, she climbs into bed, her intentions totally on turning the light off and dropping into a dreamless sleep. ( _‘Please, God let it be dreamless._ ’) But as Darcy is a curious creature by nature, she leans over and attempts to read over Tony’s shoulder. She manages to read absolutely bupkis because he slams the lid down with a resounding clack.

“Not gonna happen Mrs. Stark. Sorry, but you need to work on your ninja skills. Have you been taking lessons from Josh again? You know he’s lousy and giggles much too often.” He flashes her a smirk and Darcy _swears_ up and down that she doesn’t have any idea why she does what happens next.  

One second he’s smirking at her and guarding his laptop like it’s the Crown Jewels and the next thing she knows, she’s snatched it off his lap and shoved it behind her, thrown a leg over his lap to straddle his thighs, and is tickling him. See, one thing about Darcy Lewis is that she’s been drunk with Tony Stark before. A drunken Stark mixed with a shitfaced Lewis usually resulted in games of Twenty Question, Never Have I Ever, and so on. During one where she happened to retain the memories of that night, ( _Thank you, Jarvis._ ) she had learned Tony Stark’s ticklish spots.

He yelps like a little ole disgraced church lady, forgetting to fight back due to him being momentarily stunned, and Darcy takes full advantage of his loss of mental faculties. Her fingers dig into his skin, slipping and sliding against the warm fabric stretched over his wiggling torso and drawing from him choked laughs and growls that threaten revenge.

Quicker than she’d hoped, he gains the upper hand (quite literally) by starting with her neck, causing her to pause in her action to swat at his evil hands. By the time he has his fingertips digging into her ribcage she’s laughing just as hard as he is and she’s too caught up on this sudden high to do more than squeak when he flips them and settles over her.

“Say the magic words and I’ll stop, otherwise you know I’ll pull out the big guns…”

Darcy’s eyes widen comically and her hands still for a fraction of a second before returning to their assault with a; “Nope! You’ll never take me alive, ya Copper!”

His eyes narrow and Darcy gets scared for a minute, that look on his face has never led to anything good for her. And boy is she right. He somehow captures her hands, holding her wrists captive over her head and dipping down with a predatory glint in his gaze that she didn’t even know he was capable of, he nuzzles her neck. Seems innocent enough, right?

  _Wrong._

Darcy squeezes her eyes shut, her lips falling open on a gasp as he bites not-so-gently at the flesh that sits above her hammering pulse. She stretches under him, her breasts pressing deliciously into his chest and her head falls back of its own accord to expose her neck. Tony licks a stripe up the column of her throat then blows slowly over the damp skin causing goosebumps to break out across her skin. Darcy can’t think but she knows there’s a reason why this is bad, but she’s so not grasping it at the moment.

Tony’s stubble drags lightly over her skin as he goes back to nuzzling this time on the other side. It would seem that he knows her body pretty damn well. She finds herself wishing he’d let go of her wrists so that she could touch him in return, and _oh_ how she _wants_.

“Come on, Darcy, what are the magic words?”

His voice is low and sexy as hell and he is _Satan._ With his breath whispering over the shell of her ear as he speaks, she doesn’t want to figure out what the damn magic words are, she could just die here happily. And it’s that thought that snaps her out of it. The words come rushing out of her as she tries to suppress her lust for this imaginary ( _perfect_ ) version of this man.

“Tony Stark is a King among men and I’m the luckiest woman on earth!”

He grins brightly, practically beaming and releases her hands. She leaves them where they’re at, her chest heaving as she stares up at him.

“Why Mrs. Stark, I’m honored, truly.” Is his reply and she rolls her eyes and uses a move Natasha taught her, sending him to his back on his side of the bed with a, “You’re an ass.”

He blinks at her and she realizes that her other self probably shouldn’t have known that certain maneuver. So she does what she does best; she diverts attention from her mistake.

“Since you obviously aren’t going to tell me what you were looking at, here’s your laptop. I’m gonna go pee then I’m going to sleep so I will be awake for whatever big surprise you and everyone else have been keeping from me!” She shoves his laptop at him as she slides from bed and quickly slips into the bathroom.

When she reemerges a few minutes later, his light is off, laptop missing, and her side of the covers is neatly folded back. He even pats her empty space to which she raises a brow before turning off her own light and joining him.

“I promise all will be revealed this weekend, okay? I just want you to have a good time. You, _we_ need it.” He sounds apologetic with a hint of excited and she just nods and cuddles up to him, her back to his front. (Give her a break, she’s not stupid, but she isn’t _dead_ either… At least she hopes not.)

Darcy falls asleep quickly, the warmth of Tony at her back making it easier than she would have thought. And her dreams come…

 

                                                                                           * * *

 

_Tonight, Darcy doesn’t swim under her watery sanctuary, instead she feels heavy, weighted down. She had a cat when she was a teenager; he was a big, fat cat. Sometimes he would crawl onto her stomach when she fell asleep on the couch, or she left her door open at night. She’d wake up to him kneading her tummy with sharp little pinpricks that stung and his weight making it hard to take those really deep breaths._

_That’s how she feels now. Her stomach itches and when she tries to breathe in, drag oxygen into her lungs, it’s as if her body can’t or isn’t capable of doing what she wants it to. And it_ **hurts** _with each labored breath. Her mind can’t decipher why this is going on. She wants to open her eyes and look down at her stomach but there’s a blindfold covering her lids and she wants its gone._

_But she can’t do anything._

_She tries to listen to the things around her and that’s when she hears the quiet whispers off to her left side. Darcy strains to make out what’s being said and wishes she could tell them to speak up. Determined, she focuses sososo hard and finally the voice gets less jumbled._

_It’s Steve._

_“…that they said it wasn’t likely, but I still had to try, right? I mean, I’d want somebody to talk to me if the situation were different. Just like Sam sat with me after DC and played me music…_

_Anyway, Bucky just left with Nat and Clint. Man, Darcy, we sure do miss you. I think it would make you roll your eyes to know that it took Nat and Dr. Banner to get Tony out of here. He, ah… he’s not doing so well, Darce.”_

_He clears his throat and it sounds like a chair squeaks and gets closer to her, his words a little easier to make out._

_“None of us are, really. Out of all those injured in the attack they said you were the worst case. You’re special, see; I told you that you were. That you are. You take all the time you need to heal, okay? And I’ll try to keep Stark in check until you—“_

_“Captain Rogers, I’m sorry but we need to…_

_Darcy doesn’t hear anymore, and she_ **hates** _that she can’t give Steve a reassuring hug and tell him to stop being so soft. She wants him to finish that sentence. She wants to hear more about the others. She wants to hear Tony speak for himself. She wants to... She wants..._

_Darcy wants to... to wake up…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to some things...... Are you ready for them? I'm not. Darcy isn't. And Tony doesn't know what the hell is going on.


	6. Hugging kidnappers, playing in a castle, and singing Lana Del Rey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy ditches her children with some shady but awfully willing kidnappers, makes plans to run away with another more refined man, and lets her hair down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'll notice, the rating has been hiked up a degree. If you don't like it, why are you reading this?! I kid, I kid. This one's a bit longer than the others and I hope to Odin that ya'll like it Now, on with the show!

_Wake up. Wake up…_

“Darcy, waaaaake up. Darce, Dee, wakey, wakey…”

Her eyes blink open slowly as she swats a clumsy hand at the tickling sensation on her cheek, finding it very rude that Tony woke her up. He snorts at her attempt to hit him and presses a kiss to her brow before she feels the bed shift as he rolls out of the covers.

“Up and at ‘em. We’ve got an hour until we’re kid free and out of here!” he pauses at the foot of the bed to waggle his brows at her suggestively. He dives out of the way and his pillow plummets pathetically to the floor. It’s early, her aim will get better.

Stretching out, Darcy throws back the covers and slides off the mattress. Raising her arms over her head she groans appreciatively as she bends and stretches, her spine popping with a satisfying tick. Bending further at the waist, her arms dropping over her head, she releases her hands to press palms down against the floorboards. Her muscles thrum within her skin happy with her morning stretch.

“You keep doing that and we’re not going to be ready to go for a day or two.”

Darcy rolls her eyes and rolls back up, grabbing her glasses on the way. Plopping them onto her face, she glares at Tony and walks past him into the now vacant bathroom. Just before she closes the door she suggests that he go make her some coffee before she murders him and spends her weekend locked up in jail. He obliges her.

Twenty minutes later Darcy is feeding a babbling Lee while Josh and Tony discuss all the things Brady has planned for them this weekend. She’s sucking down coffee like nobody’s business and trying to piece together everything that Steve had said the night before in her dream. She still isn’t sure if she is in a coma and having an amazing dream, (from the way he talked she was) or if she’s on life support and actually having an out of body experience in some weird alternate reality. She doesn’t know which she wants to actually be happening more.

“Did you pack my flashlight, Mom?” Josh’s voice disrupts her internal perpetual puzzlement and she nods automatically while slipping the last bite of mushy oatmeal past Lee’s lips.

“All you need is Clark and yourself. I already packed your stuff last night. Which reminds me, I’m gonna go text Steve and let him know we’re on our way. You go call your mom while I get this chick ready?” She glances to Tony as she pushes away from the table, moving around to pull the baby from her seat as well.

At his nod Darcy mirrors it and wipes Lee’s mouth and hands off with a damp paper towel before chucking it into the trashcan and doing a touchdown dance when it sinks in. Josh groans at her and Tony just smirks. She offers them both a grin and leaves Tony to clean up and get his kid ready to go.

 

                                                                                                          * * *

 

Brady answers the door and Darcy huffs as they take off into the bowels of Steve and Bucky’s house, darting around a grinning Steve and leaving her standing there with Josh’s bag and backpack.

“Good luck.” She tells him as she steps into the entryway and places her rude son’s stuff against the wall on a cute wooden bench. “He’s hyper as all get out and you can blame Tony.” Steve chuckles as Darcy cards a hand through her loosely curling locks and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sure you had nothing to do with, right?” She simply shakes her head in complete denial and he rolls his eyes and tugs her into a warm hug. ‘ _Oh wow, okay, his hugs are still great here, then…’_ her brain supplies her with just as she hears a distinct yelp and peeks around Steve’s frame. Bucky strides down the hallway with Brady tossed over one shoulder and Josh dangling from the other.

“Does one of these hellions belong to you? This one says he does, but I smell a rat.”

Darcy plays along with a smirk and feeling lighter than she has in days. “No, Sir. I’ve never seen them before in my life.” Josh tells her it’s wrong to lie while Brady reaches towards Steve expecting him to save him from his father’s clutches. She tamps down a laugh at the ‘Get real.’ look that Steve gives his son.

“Well, I guess we can keep them. They look kind of scrawny, though. What do you think, Stevie?”

“We’ll have to feed them and fatten ‘em up, but I suppose we better let them hang around here.”

The boys agree and high-five where they hang and all three adults burst into laughter. Darcy steals Josh from Bucky and says a proper goodbye as he and Steve wave at Tony from their front door where he sits in the car with Lee. She straightens her shirt after depositing Josh back onto his feet and warns him to be well behaved for his captors over the weekend and turns to said men.

“Well, I guess I should get moving. We still have to drop Lee off with Maria and Howard.”

She pauses momentarily at how damn weird it is to actually say that and offers them a smile. They both hug her and Tony hollers from the driveway, “HEY! That’s my wife, get your own!” Bucky flips him off and Darcy wiggles out of their grasps with an eye roll. She makes sure Steve knows to call her for anything and gets ushered through the door with a promise and a knowing smirk from Bucky. Huffing she strolls back out to the car and slips back into the passenger seat.

 

                                                                                                       *

 

They pull up to a _huge_ house that looks like something she’s more used to seeing in her world. She means, her and Tony’s house isn’t exactly small but it definitely isn’t this _grand._ She bites at her bottom lip a little nervous as she unfolds from the car and moves to the back to get Lee and her bags. Suddenly her blue jeans and Superman (shut up) T-shirt paired with a pair of chucks make her feel uncomfortably small. Darcy hefts the baby onto her hip and follows Tony up the driveway to the front door with butterflies in her stomach.

Before he can ring the doorbell the door opens revealing Maria decked out in ( _oh thank Thor_ ) jeans and a top with a grin on her face.

“You made it! I was worried you’d changed your minds.”

Darcy casts a glare at Tony’s profile. “You forgot to call her didn’t you?”

He has the decency to at least look sheepish as his mother Tsk’s him and takes a step back to let them in. Darcy would pinch the bridge of her nose but her hands are full. Instead she brushes past him and follows Maria down the hall and into what looks like a massive sitting room. It’s surprisingly lived-in and comfortable looking. The older woman reaches for her youngest grandchild and tells Darcy to sit and Tony… well, he didn’t follow them and she’s lost him.

“Oh, don’t worry about him; he probably went to find Howard. He’ll be back.” Darcy nods as Maria reads her mind and settles Lee’s things into a chair before finding her own seat. Her hands fidget in her lap as she not-so subtly takes in the room, the pictures on the wall.

“So, are you excited to be getting away this weekend?”

Darcy nods and hums an agreement as her gaze lingers on what appears to be a wedding photo. It’s too far away for her to tell who exactly is in it but she has a feeling that it’s her and Tony’s. She returns her attention on Maria and watches as the woman expertly handles Lee and talks to the little girl. At least she knows her kids are in good hands this weekend. (Her very _imaginary_ children, right? She’s still not sure.)

She’s saved from having to make small talk about things that she knows absolutely nothing about by the sound of three sets of footfalls approaching the room. Darcy turns her head to watch as the trio is led into the room by a very much alive Howard Stark and followed by Tony and Happy. She takes a moment just to compare and is not disappointed. Both Tony and Howard are holding tumblers filled with amber liquid and the resemblance is down right uncanny. She would laugh, but she’s a little stunned.

“Ah, there’s my favorite girl!”

Thinking that he means her daughter, Darcy just smiles. But she’s shocked when he settles on the couch next to her, throwing an arm over her shoulders and hugs her to his side. He smells of cologne and just a hint of cigar smoke. _‘Not bad._ ’ she thinks.

“Um, hiya, there…” Darcy says going for cheerful because it’s not every day you get to sit next to the guy who made Steve’s shield and help create Tony Stark.

“When are you going to leave my son and run away with me? Don’t worry, Maria will make the arrangements for the children.” His grin is rakish and Darcy can see where Tony gets it.

“How’s next Tuesday sound?” she asks and he laughs while pointing at Tony with a, “I can see why you keep her around.” Tony just makes a face at his dad and turns to talk to Happy who smiles and waves at her. She returns the wave and can feel the tension in her frame ease just a little at the lighthearted teasing.

But soon enough goodbyes are said, (she may or may not get a little teary eyed at leaving Lee behind) and her and Tony are back on the road, all alone. They’re alone until Monday and Darcy is beginning to be okay with it. She can handle Tony, so it’ll all be okay. What could possibly go wrong?

She should have remembered what her Granny always said about saying that.

 

                                                                                                    * * *

 

Nearing the two hour mark, Darcy beats her high score on Candy Crush just as Tony takes a right onto a road that is less heavy with traffic and she has no idea where they’re going. He still won’t tell her anything. She does know that they drove past a lake about ten minutes before and it seemed so peaceful. She kinda wishes that she could just sit by the water and take in the serenity of the place.

She shuts her game down not wanting to push her luck on another round and glances over at Tony. He’s been singing along to the radio pretty much the entire trip. She’s relieved that he hasn’t wanted to talk about anything, more afraid that she wouldn’t have the right answer more than anything.

Darcy’s mouth drops open in shock and awe as he turns up onto a drive that twines around to the back of a massively gorgeous lake house. Her eyes follow the lines of the Victorian house (it’s a miniature castle, really) and she doesn’t even notice that Tony has slowed to allow her to do so while he smirks.

Yep, she is most definitely in a dream.

“Surprise.” Her head snaps around to stare at Tony. Apparently this wasn’t something she’d seen before so she had a good excuse to be all gaping and wide eyed. ( _Whew._ )

“Is this what you’ve been keeping from me?” Darcy questions him as he pulls into a parking spot and cuts the engine.

"Only part of it. You’ll find out the rest tonight. You did bring that dress and my suit, right?” She nods and just continues to stare at him all sorts of confused (and freaking giddy).

“Good! Let’s get our stuff taken in and grab a bite to eat then we have to get ready…”

He doesn’t give her time to interrogate him like she wants to and she watches him climb out of the car, the trunk popping open with a beep. Darcy has to will herself to follow suit and soon has her bags slung over her shoulders and stares up at the house again while Tony unlocks one of the doors. She lets him play leader and walks silently behind him, stopping occasionally to check out the interior. It’s like something out of her Harlequin romance phase she went through in high school and she is a tiny bit in love and never wants to leave.

Once their bags are stashed away in the master bedroom (looks like a freaking King and Queen’s chambers and don’t even get her started on that bathroom) they move into the huge, wide open kitchen to throw together a bite to eat. There are copper pots hanging over the island and Darcy feels like she’s in a movie and she’s the princess that likes to hide in the kitchen with the servants. The shelves in the pantry and fridge are fully stocked and they eat sandwiches.

Darcy grills Tony and he finally gives in telling her that a friend of his dad’s owned it and was getting on in age and wanted to sell it but not to just anyone. It’d been in the guy’s family for years and he wanted someone who understood the value of memories and not just the almighty dollar. Howard had immediately thought of Darcy and told Tony about it. And as they say, Ta Da!

She’s thrilled even though she really shouldn’t be. She could be gone any minute now but the longer she stays, the more she wonders why she can’t stay. Why shouldn’t she be happy? Why shouldn’t Tony be happy and loved with his parents alive and children of his own? The house loses some of its shine as her thoughts sweep in like a dementor.

After they eat Tony orders her to go get all dolled up because they’re going to a party. She indulges him, but only because she wants to.

 

                                                                                                     *

 

Darcy feels a little better once she spends a good hour pampering and making herself seem like she actually meets Tony Stark’s standards. She’s in a three-quarter sleeved little black lace dress, it’s a v-neck with lace that climbs up her neck and a pair of maroon (the irony doesn’t even surprise her at this point) pumps. She’s vamped up her makeup a little with a touch more mascara and eyeliner and her signature knock-‘em-dead red lipstick. And to top it all off Darcy had curled her hair and decided to go retro, pinning it up at her nape artfully, leaving a few pieces loose around her face to frame it, She felt hot and refreshed. Tonight was going to be good, she vowed right before carefully taking the stairs.

She’s four steps down when she hears a low whistle, her hand tightening around the banister instinctively.

“I am the luckiest son of a bitch on this planet.”

Her blush almost matches the shade of her lipstick and she swallows back a squeak of utter delight (and nervousness). When she makes it down the stairs Tony is waiting there for her and she gets a good look at him. Her mouth goes dry. He’s in another tailored suit, this one more relaxed in style that the one he’d worn to work just the day before. She doesn’t remember packing it, but it’s completely black on black and devastating to Darcy’s brain.

She has to clear her throat before she can speak.

“And I think I won the damn lottery. Where’s my reward for picking you out of all the men I’ve known?”

“Oh, you’ll get that later tonight and Shortstack that is a promise.”

She doesn’t have a response for that and so she takes his offered arm, switching her clutch to the other hand as he leads them out a different door and into a garage. A single car sits in the space that’s big enough for four vehicles. It’s a gorgeous sleek, black 1968 Chevy Camaro and Darcy _wants_.

“I borrowed it from Dad last week and brought it up here just for this weekend. I think he’s serious about running off with you, he loves you more than me.”

Darcy smirks and releases his arm to move towards the car, her fingertips glancing over the hood reverently. She has always had a thing for classic cars and spent more time in Auto-Body  in high school than she did in any other class, even dated a mechanic for three years. If she wasn’t already attached to this world, she is now…

“I’d leave you two alone but I really want to watch.”

Tony’s voice is right by her ear and pitched low, sending a chill skittering down her spine. She turns her head to the side and meets his gaze and watches as it darkens, sweeping down to her lips then back up to hers again. If she’s not careful this weekend is going to get out of hand.

“Don’t we have somewhere to be?” Her voice seems to break the spell, but the heavy feeling in her chest remains. He gestures to the car and helps her in before sliding into the driver’s seat without another word. It takes ten minutes before her curiosity wins out over her intentions to be silent.

“Alright, so the house was the first part, the car, I’m guessing, isn’t the second part so out with it. What’s so big that you had to take away my children and whisk me away?”

“You willingly gave those children away. You even hugged their kidnappers. You can’t fool me.”

“Tony…”

“Darcy…”

Before she can think twice about it, she leans over and rests a palm high up on Tony’s thigh. The muscles tense under her hand and he swallows air when she breathes against the shell of his ear. Darcy isn’t above playing dirty with him to get what she wants. And she’s had experience in seduction and torture. (Thank you, Natasha.)

“Have I told you how sexy you look right now? All commanding behind the wheel, like a fucking dream I’m living in…” 

Her voice is soft, each word dripping with sugar as her nails scratch teasingly along the inseam of his pants. She’s channeling motherfucking Lana Del Rey right now and even using her lyrics. She’s never stooped this low. Tony is a tough nut to crack. (And now ‘Radio’ is stuck in her head.)

She watches his jaw work and doesn’t hide her smirk when he tries and fails to shift in his seat. And she only scoots back to her side of the car when he grits out, “You win.”

They’re on their way to Happy and Pepper’s for a ‘small’ party. (They’re happily married and Darcy couldn’t be more than thrilled for that.) But the second part of her surprise was that Tony is doing pretty much what her Stark had done years ago and giving Pepper his half of Stark Industries. He’s instead going to be working for a new up and coming engineering company. He’s embracing his geeky side and working with Bruce.

She can’t quite wipe the grin off of her face.

 

                                                                                                    *

 

The party is in full swing by the time they pull in and in true Stark fashion Tony draws every eye in the grand room when they walk in. Pepper is an amazing host as always, hugging Darcy and complimenting her outfit. Happy is adorable and can’t take his eyes off of his wife. She meets so many people that the names start running together soon as they leave her sight.

Tony parades her around to each clique but she sees some people she knows. Sam is there looking dashing and Darcy wonders if this version knows Steve and Bucky. Natasha is there with a nervous looking Bruce. He grins when he sees her though and proceeds to tell her how happy is that he’ll be working with Tony. His enthusiasm is freaking adorable. Nat just gives her a sly grin and a wink making Darcy laugh.

The only shocker is when she’s introduced to Coulson. He calls her Mrs. Stark and shakes her hand all while sizing her up in that freaky way that he has. He doesn’t seem to know her in this world. She doesn’t have time to worry about it, though because Tony drags her onto the dance floor. She’s three glasses of champagne in and gets spun and dipped, and she had no _idea_ that Tony knew how to do that.

They’ve only been there for about two and a half hours when Tony pulls her in close for the slow song that starts up. Darcy goes willingly, her arms winding around his neck, her fourth glass of bubbly dangling from her fingers, and blind to everyone else in the room at this point. He’s stuck by her side almost the entire time and been the perfect gentleman (well, as much as Tony _can_ be that is).

His hands are skirting the decent public placement protocol and he’s grinning sweet as molasses. She can’t help but return it, living her fairytale to its fullest. He leans in and nips at the lobe of her ear causing her lashes to flutter closed, the music mixed with his cologne and the alcohol in her system making her want things she really shouldn’t. As if reading her mind he chooses that moment to speak.

“Let’s get out of here. They won’t miss us, I promise.”

Darcy finds herself nodding and the next thirty minutes are a complete blur. She remembers saying a quick apologetic goodbye to Pepper and Happy and waving at Natasha. She remembers Tony ushering her to the car, but the car ride back to the lake house is a blank. All she knows is that she is in big trouble…

 

                                                                                               * * *

 

They make it out of the garage and lock the door before Tony turns to look at Darcy in the low lamplight that they’d left on. His gaze is searing and Darcy mentally (and aloud) says ‘Oh, fuck it!’ She isn’t sure who reaches first and she doesn’t care. His hands are on her, his mouth is on hers and she has lost the will to give a flying fuck.

Darcy wants, and Darcy gets. Her hands pluck his buttons open and run up his chest, over his shoulders divulging him of his suit jacket. He flings it aside carelessly, fingers digging into her hips as she goes to work on his tie and the buttons of his other shirt. She’s mumbling into their frantic kisses something akin to “Too many clothes. OFF, gotta get ‘em off. Clothes baaad…”

He laughs and she manages to swallow the sound, getting frustrated with the amount of damn buttons and opts to become She!Hulk for a second grabbing both sides and jerking. The sound of buttons pinging everywhere is music to her ears and Tony just grunts his approval, his own hands searching for the zipper that runs down the length of her spine.

The rush of cool air against her overheated skin makes Darcy shiver and she doesn’t realize that they’ve been making their way to the stairs until Tony hangs his tie over the banister and loses his button-less button up and the white v-neck that’d been hiding under that. Her hands are instantly drawn to his bare skin and she maps the planes of his chest with them. He works to simultaneously kick his shoes off and slide the lace of her dress from her shoulders.

She whines as his actions trap her hands and pull them away from all of the skin she was scoping out for her mouth later. Tony helps her flail her way out of the sleeves and her greedy fingers return to their exploring. Darcy trails her hands over his shoulders and up his neck as she leans in to nip at his jaw, her fingers sinking into his hair and _pulling_. His head cants to the side so she can have free reign of his neck. He groans and her dress falls over her hips to puddle at her feet in a lifeless heap.

Darcy steps out of the material and lets go of him to grab the banister as he backs up onto the first stair, she follows him eagerly. He takes another step backwards and she realizes that her mouth and hands are closer to his stomach than they’ve ever been. She plants one heel (she had yet to step out of them) onto the bottom step and dips in boldly licking a stripe from the top of his bellybutton to his left nipple.

“Fuck, what has gotten into you?” he asks with a rough voice and he twitches under Darcy’s mouth where she flicks her tongue over his nipple, her hands growing a mind of their own slip around to palm his ass when he takes another step back dislodging her mouth. She looks up at him through her lashes where she’s nuzzling his happy trail to reply.

“You want me to stop?”

“Hell no! I didn’t say I didn’t love it. Can you keep the shoes on, though? Jesus, Darcy are you trying to kill me for the insurance money?”

Her laugh is answer enough, her mouth too busy because she’d used her teeth to carefully and slowly pull his zipper down. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t nuzzle his hard length through the fabric, if she said she didn’t inhale deeply committing the concentrated scent of an excited Tony Stark to memory. She totally did. All of the above.

Tony hooks a finger in the strap of her bra and tugs and Darcy follows him up the stairs like a dog on a leash. He pivots around and presses her against the wall next to their bedroom door once they’re clear of the stairs and he doesn’t spare an ounce of space between them. His nimble fingers pluck bobby pins from her hair and she can feel his stare as her curls tumble down over her shoulder and come to rest on her ample cleavage. With her heels still on they’re nearly eye-to-eye and Darcy stills when he takes a step back raking his gaze up her frame from toes to crown. She suddenly feels like prey caught in a predator’s sights.

He uses a single fingertip to brush her hair over her shoulder, leaving a tingling path behind and Darcy swallows hard when that fingertip skates across the swell of her cleavage. She watches with a hammering heart as he bends to place hot, open mouth kisses to each of her breasts and then her eyes slam shut at the feeling of his fingers dipping into the cups of her bra and pulling them down just enough that he can get his mouth on her nipples.

Darcy moans as he teases her flesh, sucking first one pebbled peak into his mouth and then switching to the other. Her hands are shaking, her legs are wobbling, and if she doesn’t get him inside of her soon she’s going to combust into ash. She doesn’t realize that she’s said this out loud until Tony’s head pops up comically and he smirks at her and motions her through to their room for the weekend.

Kicking her heels off, Darcy wastes no time in stripping her bra off (leaving the panties for Tony) and makes grabby hands at him. Tony finishes tugging his socks off and she watches in fascination as he pushes his pants along with his boxer-briefs over his hips and down with all the confidence in the world. She licks her lips and says a small apology in her head to his real wife before meeting him at the foot of the bed. Looping her arms around his neck she pants as his hands travel down her bare back to latch onto her ass, dragging her in one fell swoop against him. The heat they’re radiating could power a small country.

Tony backs her against the bed and doesn’t stop until she’s forced to fall back gracelessly. On instinct she backs up towards the headboard and she doesn’t know when the dynamic changed, when he took over the controls, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t enjoy it. She watches him plant a knee on the bed and climb on like some kind of damn animal, she shrieks in surprise when he grabs her ankles and pulls until she’s flat on her back and ‘ _Oh, okay we’re gonna play it lik—fuckfuckfuck!’_ Whimpering like a fool, Darcy glances down where Tony’s head is between her thighs. He mouths at her fabric covered mound, smoothing his calloused palms up her thighs and his gaze ticks up meeting hers. His smirk is absolutely wicked before he flattens his tongue and drags it up the crotch of her panties. Darcy is a goner.

Her hands grasp handfuls of the cover as he keeps on making her even wetter than she already was and she’s close to begging when he pulls back and finally helps her to shimmy out of her soaked underwear. Darcy’s thighs fall open in welcome as Tony crawls up the bed to place himself between them and her breath hitches when his cock brushes her skin. He notices and sits back on his knees taking a hold of his length, scooting forward to elevate her ass on his thighs (which she happily helps him do, back arched and so ready). He strokes himself once, twice, watches her with a knowing smile and then proceeds to drag the head of his dick along her wet folds. Darcy moans like a wanton whore not caring what she sounds like, not caring if this isn’t real, and not caring about _anything_.

“Oh, it’s real, Sweetheart.” Her eyes fly open at Tony’s words and she curses like a sailor as he continues to torture and tease her. She’s so far gone under his skillful hands that she’s lost the ability to filter her thoughts.

“Tony, please, come on, I can’t—Fucker!” Darcy yelps as he nudges at her entrance and slips in but stops short leaving her left panting and growling at the ceiling. He retreats and lets her slip off his lap and she pushes her feet into the mattress to scootch back a bit as he moves into position, his devious fingers dipping down to toy with her throbbing clit.

“Happy?”

“Not completely.”

“Why you little ungrateful thing.”

“Tony if you don’t fuck me right the hell now I swear I will dye all of your—Shit, shit, shit, oh my fuck, right there!”

Darcy cries out in triumph as Tony sinks into her to the hilt and her hands scrabble for purchase along his back that’s slippery with a fresh sheen of sweat. She settles for grabbing handfuls of his ass cheeks, the muscles flexing under her hands fascinating to her. He sets up a steady and hard pace, slamming into her and nearly pulling completely out, rinse and repeat. Darcy loses track of time and everything that isn’t Tony Stark as she watches him pound into her willing body. She lets go of his behind to wrap her legs around his hips, matching him thrust for thrust as her nails score down his back. She soaks up the picture that he makes, chest heaving with exertion, sweat running down his temple, and he won’t look away from her gaze. He’s hell bent on ruining her.

Her orgasm (first of many that night) hits her out of the blue and like a damn freight train. He’d slightly angled his hips and she’d arched her back like one of Barton’s bows and just _snapped_. Darcy comes with Tony’s name on her lips and stars behind her lids. He follows her, her walls clenching around his cock and milking him greedily for every drop he’ll give as he drops his forehead to rest against hers. They pant together and Darcy grips him tightly to her siphoning the very breath from his lungs while the world fades around them and they vibrate. With aftershocks still skating along her nerves, she laughs breathlessly and he collapses onto her, his weight grounding where she feels weightless.

“I need a nap now… Wake me up in an hour and we’ll do that again.”

Tony’s voice sounds fucked out and tired and she feels accomplished. They lie there for a few more minutes before his weight gets too heavy and her sensitive boobs start to twinge in protest. With a little maneuvering they end up curled around each other, naked and not caring about the mess. They doze off only to wake up around 3am, both grumbling about needing a shower so they take one together. Tony fucks her with her hands braced against the tile of the shower stall and his hands gripping her hips. She comes twice before she makes him let her go and turns around to drop to her knees with the water beating down against his back and sucks him off.

Real or not, it’s the hottest thing that has ever happened to her.

They make hot chocolate and take a bag of marshmallows out onto the porch that looks out onto the lake and watch the sun come up. When Darcy starts yawning, Tony drags her back upstairs and into another room where the bed linens are clean and pushes her in with the promise that they’ll change the other sheets later so they can sleep in the master bedroom the next night. She lets him manhandle her into place with his chest pressed against her back and their legs tangled. She’s so sated and tired that she drops into a dreamless sleep for the first time since this whole ordeal started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No dreams for Darcy tonight, but I'll make up for it in the next chapter, trust me. -twirls my villainous handlebar mustache and smiles wickedly-


	7. Can you feel me now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steaks and scotch go together, right?

‘In my perfect world, you’re happy with me.

When I picture it, it’s so heavenly.

But this fairytale is just a story, see?

Life is such an unpredictable dream.’

                                                                

*

 

Darcy wakes up just after noon that Sunday, slowly and to the feel of lips blessing her skin with tokens of affection. Her lids feel heavy and her limbs lazy as she stretches like a cat lying in the last rays of sunshine filtering through a window. She’s starfished facedown over the mattress, hair spilling across her pillow, and she’s bare from the hips up where the covers have been either kicked down during sleep or wandering hands have brushed them away. Goosebumps break out over her flesh as Tony places a lingering kiss to the small of her back.

She raises a hand to swipe at a strand of errant hair that has fallen over her brow and hums happily as fingertips skim up her left side and back down again, she’s too relaxed to move at the moment (unless a better offer comes along) so she lets him do as he pleases. The heat from his body blankets her when he moves up and hovers over her, relocating his kisses to the pale expanse of her shoulder. She cranes her neck back to give him free access and gets a kiss for her trouble.

Needing a better angle, Darcy rolls under him, the sheets twisting around her legs and hips with the movement. Tony seems to like her decision and she draws her hands up to push through his unruly locks as he deepens the kiss. He tastes of chocolate and hints of mint and _Tony_ and she loses herself as her tongue dances with his in a slow waltz. He traces a hand down, slipping below the covers that hold her legs captive and dips dexterous fingers between her thighs. Darcy gasps into his mouth as they glide along her damp folds and her hips arc off the bed seeking more than just his light teasing touches.

Within minutes Tony deems Darcy awake enough and ready for him and makes her whimper at the loss of his fingers, but he makes up for it when he helps her to shuck the covers from her limbs and they fall heedlessly into the floor. He settles into the cradle of her thighs and Darcy’s legs wrap around his hips drawing him in right where she wants him. Her hands slide from his hair, down his shoulders, and coasts down his back and back up as Tony leans down, an elbow supporting his weight under her shoulder.

Darcy’s eyes are drawn down to where their hips are slotted together and she watches in amazement as his fingers wrap around his cock and he feeds himself into her. The double pleasure of watching it and feeling it happen simultaneously packs a punch and pushes the air from her lungs and Tony is right there to swallow it down. She drags her gaze up the line of his body and meets his whiskey tinted hues, but his pupils are blown so wide with desire that in the afternoon light they nearly look black. A whine sounds in the back of her throat as he begins to move and her lashes flutter closed just to _feel_.

He takes her up and up only to pull her back from the edge at the last moment and it doesn’t take long for Darcy to turn into a writhing mess of need. Just when she thinks that he’s going to let her come he finds the restraint to hold back and keep her teetering on that precipice. She doesn’t understand how he’s able to do it or where he’s gotten the energy after the night they’d had, but never one to be a quitter she takes it. His thrusts are drawn out and deep and with a pause and a maneuver he sweeps her up, her body pliant in his hands as he settles her on his lap.

They’re chest to chest and Darcy loops her arms around his neck as he tugs her hair off of her sweaty neck to drape over one shoulder before sliding his hands down her frame and settling on her ass to help her lever up. Her eyes are locked in his stare and they’re as close as two people can possibly be as she sinks down onto his length, pulling moans from both of them in the process. He coaxes her to move over him and she happily obliges. Tony mouths at any skin that he can reach and their kisses are more the marriage of sighs and whispered encouragements than actual kissing.

Darcy works them both up setting a relentless pace foregoing the slow thing that they had begun with all while Tony falls apart under her. Her breath is punched out on a cry as she feels him throb and grow inside of her right as his muscles tense under her and he presses his mouth to her neck, coming in hot pulses into her. Feeling him lose it and knowing that it’s because of _her_ is enough to send her flying over the edge right after him, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching down around his cock. Darcy cries out a strangled noise as pleasure razes her veins and renders her breathless, Tony’s arms wrapped tightly around her where he shakes under her, her only anchor. They collapse back against the mattress once she finds the strength to climb off of him and he’s the one to lay spread eagle across the bed this time in all of his naked glory.

“I think we’re going to have to do laundry tonight or we’re just going to mess up another room…”

Tony folds his arms behind his head, his eyes closed and a smirk planted firmly on his features. Darcy falls bonelessly against his side, head pillowing on his chest where his heartbeat is just starting to come back down and she laughs, free and easy. She lets her eyes close and inhales deeply feeling content and she feels fine with just messing up another room. It’s a big house, they can spare them.

 

* * *

 

They do in fact do the laundry that day, but it’s not until much later. Once they pull themselves out of bed after another nap they make a valiant effort at taking another shower together. (They succeed and start the laundry, too.) Fresh as daisies Darcy demands that Tony cook them supper and he surprisingly agrees. He fires up a grill that’s down past the front yard and near the dock leaving her to pack everything they need into a cooler which he comes back and totes down to the shore. Darcy settles at the picnic table and watches him command the grill, flipping steaks and telling her just how _‘a man really cooks_.’ She humors him and sips a beer, loose limbed and soaking up the last of the sinking sun.

Tony is a surprisingly good cook and they eat at the picnic table watching the sunset sparkle on the surface of the water. Darcy leans into his side, the breeze blowing off the lake chilly and he slips his arm around her and nudges her temple affectionately with his jaw. Once they begin to lose the light, they pack up their dinner and trek back up to the house, all smiles and comfortable banter.

When the food is put away, Darcy convinces Tony to let her call and check on the kids while he goes and sees if there are any movies or something to watch in the place. Calling Maria first, she’s reassured that everything is fine and makes plans to pick Lee up the following day around noon. Saying her goodbyes, she calls Steve’s phone and laughs when Bucky picks up with a; “You have reached the kidnappers hotline, if you wish to know if your child is alive press one. If you’d like to donate your kid’s body to science, press two. If you’re the chick that dropped her kid off the other night, I’m sorry but all information is classified.” She can hear Josh and Brady in the background laughing and there’s static before Steve comes on the line no doubt having snatched the phone from his silly husband.

They talk for a few minutes before he puts Josh on and Darcy’s heart smarts at how happy he sounds as he rambles on. She has to promise to listen to every detail when she gets him from school the next day and begs off with a goodnight. Steve and Bucky both say goodbye before the line clicks off. Darcy wanders through the house and finds Tony sprawled along a couch, a massive flat screen turned on and holding his attention. She kicks her flip flops off, sits her phone down on the coffee table, and then crawls onto the couch and pretty much on top of him. He grunts and arranges her how he wants but doesn’t complain so she snuggles in.

Darcy approves of Tony’s taste as they watch a ‘Friends’ marathon and doze lazily, their bodies tired, warm, and their stomachs full. She’s not sure how long they lay there but at some point, he nudges her up and they make their way up the stairs and back into the master bedroom. They neck like teenagers with heavy eyelids and slow hands and fall asleep just like an old married couple too tired to do more than sleep a full eight hours (ten if Darcy is counting). That night, Darcy doesn’t dream.

 

*

 

But somewhere in New York, slumped in a recliner that he’d personally had delivered to Darcy’s private room, Tony Stark _does_ dream…

 

* * *      * * *

 

_An hour before he fell asleep, Tony had strolled past the nurses’ station smuggling in a bottle of scotch and Darcy’s iPod with a very convincing smile. (To those who didn’t know him, that is.) The day before he had convinced the staff that Darcy needed her own private room and had been moved almost immediately. He’d tossed money at them and they hadn’t hesitated. At least some things went his way._

_Settling into the plush leather recliner that he’d gotten put into said room, he stuck the ugly pink ear buds into his ears and selected a random playlist from Darcy’s collection. While the music began, Tony opened his liquor and saluted Darcy’s prone form a few feet away. He missed her smart mouth, the way she rolled her eyes at his antics, and her laughter. He’d never admit anything out loud, but Tony? He wasn’t coping very well._

_Watching Darcy fall from the sky like a stupid Disney character, her hair whipping everywhere… He shudders to think if he had been thirty seconds later. And he’d thought he’d saved her. He was in full armor and Iron Man saved the day again, this time one of their own. But oh how the quickly the mighty fall. She had bled all over him, poked him in the cheek, mumbled something about kissing someone, and then collapsed in his arms losing color along with consciousness. Tony estimates that five years of his life were shaved off that day._

_He takes a generous swig of the alcohol and watches her chest rise and fall, her music blaring in his ears as he wills her to wake up, to be okay. He feels like a failure and no matter how much the good Captain Rogers tells him that he isn’t, that it wasn’t his fault, he doesn’t believe him. He doesn’t believe anything that they say, not even Pepper. And oh, is she getting suspicious. He doesn’t give a shit. Darcy wouldn’t either. She’s his friend. Who else is he going to get drunk with and watch cartoons until the sun comes up with? That’s all._

_He doesn’t feel like he did that time that Obie ripped his arc-reactor out of his chest. All he has is a scar there now anyway. Nope, he’s Tony Stark, and he isn’t here because he’s fallen goatee over ass for this little spitfire. Not him. Ask him and all he’ll say is, ‘I don’t want to go through the process of finding Pepper another PA.’ nothing more, nothing less. He’ll lie right to your face, he’s good at that._

_When the scotch is half-empty, the songs are slower, and his eyes are heavier; Tony blinks and forgets how to open his eyes._

_At first it’s like one of those dreams where you’re in a place and there’s a long corridor and no matter how long you keep walking, there’s never an exit. He hates those dreams, and he_ **knows** _he’s dreaming because the edges of his vision are blurry and everything is too quiet. But all at once as if someone flipped a volume switch, he hears voices and what sounds like a TV. He finds himself drawn to the commotion, wanting to see what’s so important that these people are being rudely loud about it._

_He tries to move faster but he can’t control his own limbs, he’s in his body, but has absolutely no control. Okaaaay… At least it’s a better dream than Darcy dying in his arms, her blood all over him. Right, now’s not the time to think about that. So he goes along with it and someone presses play on movement again._

_His sock encased feet carry him down a hallway, pictures line the walls but he can’t make out who they are, whoever’s controlling him not stopping or looking at them. He sees flashing lights from a TV screen before he rests a hip against the doorframe and with a flick of a wrist tosses a suit jacket over his shoulder. And what Tony sees through this body’s eyes makes his heart and mind come to a screeching halt._

_Darcy Lewis sits in the middle of a living room, a baby in the dip of her folded legs, another kid to her right, and they appear to be playing videogames. Her hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun that she only wears when it’s getting in her way, and she looks utterly at home. She’s yelling louder than the kid up at the screen and elbowing him trying to distract him or something probably to make him lose whatever they’re playing._

_His dream self takes a moment just to admire her and he feels a warmth seep into his gut. He wants to run, but since he can’t he watches in weird fascination as he clears his throat and Darcy’s head whips around. She takes in his appearance from toe to head and when he gets a look at her hungry eyes, he_ **wants**. _She says something he doesn’t quite make out and before he can stride forward he’s yanked from the dream and tossed like a sailboat in a hurricane into another scene._

_This time he watches as his arm spins Darcy out and back in, her landing flush against him with a breathless laugh and a pat to his cheek. He wraps his arms around her oblivious to the crowd around them and he stares through fuzzy vision, as if the channel isn’t completely tuned in, as she plasters herself to him and honest-to-God nuzzles him. He would make a disgruntled sound but he can’t. Darcy wouldn’t do that, she doesn’t like shit like that… Right? Dreams are stupid._

_They sway to some tuneless melody that he can’t really make out and he feels himself growing hard, hands sliding down the back of her dress. Tony is a cad sometimes (all the time) but Darcy would have tased him by now if he pulled that with her! What the actual fuck kind of dream was this? He doesn’t know when the flute of champagne had popped into existence, but his gaze watched as she took a sip and returned her arms around his neck. His mouth moves asking her something but he doesn’t get to find out what or what her answer is as he’s thrown onto another stage._

_The room smells faintly of sex, laundry detergent, and that perfume Darcy always wears when she wants to have a ‘pretty day’. Judging by the light filtering through the white curtains behind the bed he’s in, Tony’s guessing it’s early-ish morning. His right arm is asleep and he wiggles his fingers just to see if he can. This time they obey his command. Going with it, he attempts to tug his arm free from whatever’s laying on it and a palm pats ineffectively at his chest. His head flicks to the right and his nose presses against a bundle of dark brown hair._

_After further inspection he realizes that this time he’s in bed with Darcy, her head on his chest, leg slung over his thigh, and arm banded around his sternum. At least he’s not naked? He’s fallen asleep with her enough on the couch in the common room to know she’s a stealth cuddler in the night, but this, this is intimate. He suddenly feels like a dirty old man. Why the hell is he dreaming about her this way? It makes no sense, none at all._

_When she stirs, he stills. His lids shutter closed and all he can feel is her alive and breathing against him. It’s not so bad, but dreams usually are to indulge you with your subconscious desires, right? He shouldn’t enjoy it as much as he does but he finds his muscles relaxing for the first time since he’d watched Darcy plummet towards the concrete. It feels like he’s drifting off and he tries to tighten his arms instinctively around her. Now that he’s here, he thinks, ‘What’s the use in leaving?’ But his arms go slack and the room fades into shadow just as Tony feels like he’s pitching to the side._

_“Stark, come on, time to go.”_

_Tony’s eyes snap open and he stares wild-eyed at Barton and the assassin holds his hands out like Tony’s a scared animal or something preparing to attack._

_“How long was I out?” His voice is rough and he feels like he has cotton stuffed into his jaws._

_“About three hours, Mr. Stark.” Coulson (Director now that Fury had flown the coop) states as Barton steps to the side revealing the other man. He actually offers Tony a smile, it a small thing but it’s real. Tony leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he hangs his head and drags tired hands over his face. He needs to shave. And brush his teeth. So he nods at them and grabs his liquor that someone had so kindly saved from his sleep-lack grip and pushes to his feet with Darcy’s iPod in his other hand. If they notice they don’t say anything._

_He pats Barton on the shoulder and nods at Coulson before pausing at the foot of Darcy’s hospital bed. The other men talk amongst themselves giving him some semblance of privacy as he flicks the pad of Darcy’s toes through the covers with a finger. He watches her breathe for a moment, the machine working to aid her lungs grating on his nerves. She shouldn’t be here, that last part of his dream, that’s where she should be; in his bed wrapped around him. But he’d failed her._

_“See ya later, Shortstack.” he says quietly and leaves the room, Barton and Coulson taking over watch where they’ll play poker until Steve or Barnes (or both) show up in the morning with coffee like they always do. It’s the least all of them can do._

_Darcy’s toes twitch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you like the little peek into what's been going on with Tony and the others? And what does that last sentence mean for our Darcy? Is she waking up? Is she just having a toe-tapping good time?  
> Oh, how the times they are a' changin'...
> 
> P.S. The lyrics at the beginning are from the amazingly haunting song: 'Feel Me' by Mecca Kalani. Go back and listen to it during the sexy part, I dare you.


	8. Inhalers for everyone!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy takes a nap, Tony has a heart-to-heart, and Bruce smiles...

**Monday.**  

They wake up around eight and it’s with smiles and soft, sleepy kisses. Darcy could get used to this; she suspects that this Tony already is. Aware that they don’t have that much time before they have to return home, they make their way into the shower where they waste time having some of the best sex that Darcy has ever had. Needless to say, she’s pretty fucked out and feeling awesome with a smile super glued to her face by the time they’re packed up and ready to go. She sighs as Tony pulls away from the house and she rubs a hand over her heart at the pang of loss. She really loved that place.

The trip back home is much more comfortable and relaxed, the atmosphere between them warm. Tony serenades her with cheesy eighties ballads while she laughs at him, occasionally chiming in herself just to make him chuckle. They hold hands the entire drive and only stop once to grab a quick breakfast (and of course coffee) that they eat in the car. Everything is perfect and Darcy finds herself momentarily forgetting that it isn’t _real._ She’s excited to see her kids again and _happy_.

They roll up into the Starks’ driveway twenty minutes after twelve and Darcy is the first one out of the car with Tony’s laughter following hot on her heels. She rings the doorbell and bounces on the balls of her feet, excited to see Lee again. A minute later the door opens and she has to fight down the urge to squeal happily, Maria grins at her and then down at the baby on her hip.

“I take it you’ve had a good weekend? You look well.”

Darcy’s reaching for Lee and opens her mouth to reply but Tony beats her to it with, “Thank you, I know I do. And yes, we had an excellent time, Mom.”

Maria and Darcy roll their eyes together as Darcy squeezes Lee, inhaling her scent with a grin. She only has eyes for the little girl at the moment and so she follows Maria blindly into the house with Tony’s hand on her hip as a steadying guide. Howard, apparently home for lunch, meets them in the doorway to the sitting room with a grin. They stay for about an hour before Darcy reminds Tony of the time. Both Maria and Howard hug Darcy tightly at the door and tell Tony to drive carefully 

Getting home is a relief as they lug their bags into the house, Darcy and Lee still attached at the hip. Tony stands in the middle of the family room once they enter, raising his hands over his head and stretching, his, ‘There’s no place like home!’ makes Darcy grin as she drops onto the couch. He offers to slap a couple sandwiches together while she feeds Lee and Darcy happily accepts and gets to work. Within an hour the three of them are fed and the baby’s nodding off on Darcy’s lap.

She reluctantly hands over her daughter so she can go freshen up before she has to get Josh from school. When she comes back downstairs twenty minutes later it’s to the picture of Tony sacked out across the couch, mouth slack in sleep, and arms wrapped around a sleeping Lee on his chest. Darcy snaps a couple of pictures with her phone deciding to let them rest and sneaks out the door. She stops and gets gas and an iced coffee, and maybe a little candy for her older kid, but she’ll never tell.

Darcy pulls up to the elementary school ten minutes early and figures it won’t hurt to slip in and wait inside. Principal Hill waves at her and gives her a warm smile when she leans a hip against the wall outside of the office where the kids will come stampeding by. Darcy offers her a little wave and slings her keys around her fingers probably looking like any bored parent. At three O’clock on the dot the bell rings signaling the end of the day and she straightens as the classroom doors are opened releasing their prisoners.

Her gaze zeros in down the hall where Steve’s classroom is around a corner and she isn’t disappointed when kids come spilling out into the steady stream. Josh and Brady are the last to leave with Steve and as soon as her son notices Darcy, he shoots off down the hall and barrels into her like a linebacker. She catches him with a grunt, scooping him up, his legs dangling freely as she peppers his face with kisses which he protests rather loudly with ‘YUCK, MOM!’ but he takes it like a true Stark. Sitting him back onto his feet, she grins down at him as he hooks a hand into hers and waits for all two seconds as Brady and Steve walk up.

“I see you made it back in one piece.”

“And I see you survived the hurricane of two children?”

“Minor injuries and property damage not withstanding, but yes.”

Laughing, Darcy grins at Steve and he offers to walk them out to their car as he lets Brady climb him like a monkey to get a free piggyback ride. They banter back and forth while the kids butt in and correct them, talking over them about their awesome weekend. When they reach the SUV, Darcy gets Josh in with a little bribing and turns back to Steve. He gives her a hug and tells her that he’s glad she had a good weekend. They make plans to make plans to have dinner together soon. And with that Darcy waves him and Brady off before sliding into the car. 

She listens to Josh tell her about his adventures with Brady and smiles the entire way back home. She lets him have a little candy because he’s just so freaking cute and she’d missed the little dude. When they get home he’s out of the car before she can even open her door and she shakes her head in fond amusement as she grabs his bags and follows his dust trail. She hears him already chattering away to Tony and follows the voices into the kitchen, walking in with a smile.

Lee’s babbling away in her playpen in the corner and Tony’s at the little four seat breakfast table with what looks like paper work and his laptop all spread out. That man is a workaholic and she finds it endearing, (when he’s at home with them that it.) She asks Josh if he has homework and his answering groan makes her arch a brow and bite back a grin. Tony tells him to get his stuff and work with him so she leaves them to it.

Darcy drags everyone’s bags upstairs and sets to work unpacking with her iPod blaring happy music helping motivate her, the time passing quickly. Before she knows it Josh has hunted her down where she sits in the floor of her and Tony’s closet just to complain that they were getting hungry. Narrowing her eyes at him for interrupting her she gives him a five second head start before chasing him back downstairs to the kitchen. The punk hides behind his father. She shoos them both out of her kitchen but lets Lee stay since she had no part in it.

Dinner is normal, like something right out of a movie and Darcy still can’t stop grinning as she feeds Lee and herself while listening to Tony and Josh. They have ice cream for dessert and laugh at the faces Lee makes at the cold concoction. When the dishes are washed and put away, they recreate Friday night and curl up in the family room with a movie. This time it’s a Winnie the Pooh movie and both Josh and Darcy nod off.

Tony jostles her awake and as she wipes drool off her face and rights her glasses, he hands her Lee and picks Josh up to take him up to bed. Cradling the sleepy little girl, Darcy pushes up off the couch, turning the TV and DVD player off, along with the lights and checks the door before following him up. She changes Lee’s diaper and puts her pajamas on, putting her to bed then slipping into Josh’s room to tuck him in and say goodnight.

Once the kids are in bed, Darcy moves to the master bedroom, noticing the bathroom door’s open and the shower’s on full blast and this time she doesn’t hesitate to look. Tony grins at her over his shoulder and she rolls her eyes before turning to the dresser to get out her own pajamas, changing where he can watch and she doesn’t miss the groan he makes when she bends over to flip her head over so she can gather her hair up. When he’s out of the shower and drying off, she pushes him aside to brush her teeth and orders him out so she can pee.

When Darcy comes out of the bathroom all the lights are off and all she can see is a big lump under the covers. Snorting, she takes her glasses off and unties her hair letting it fall around her shoulders. She makes sure her alarm is set before climbing into bed and yelps when Tony latches onto her and drags her towards him. Settling into his arms, she meets his lips for a slow burning kiss and has to laugh when she ends up yawning into it. He growls playfully at her but lets her turn over and they’re both asleep in minutes.

No one dreams that night.

* * * 

**Tuesday.**

Darcy wakes up with a cramp in her foot and a sore throat, and she has to forcibly drag herself out of bed. She’s running late and she just _knows_ that today is going to be one of _those_ days. Tony’s already long gone if the cooling coffee on her nightstand says anything, and she frowns a little disappointed. Getting ready takes a little longer due to her sluggish brain, but she manages to get herself and both kids presentable and out the door.

By the time she says bye to Josh her body is aching and the frames of her glasses seem to be squeezing her temples giving her a horrible headache and she just wants to go back to bed. When Steve sees her he looks at her with pity and tells her she should call Bucky, get him to watch Lee so she can go to the doctor’s and make sure it’s just the flu or something. Darcy agrees and before she leaves, she pulls into a parking spot and does just that.

Thirty minutes later she passes Lee off to Bucky and she’s so grateful that when he hugs her telling her to feel better, Darcy wants to cry. She hasn’t been sick since her system was getting used to the New Mexico weather, and she prided herself on being healthy. So she didn’t understand where this was coming from. Trudging back out to her car, she waves at Bucky and Lee and backs out, heading toward the doctor’s office.

*

 Darcy Stark died on a Tuesday. Hit head-on in a collision by some joyriding adolescents. All three were believed to die on impact and were announced dead upon arrival of emergency vehicles. She was survived by her husband Tony Stark and their two children, Joshua and Lee. Darcy was twenty seven year old.

Had there been an obituary, that’s what it would have read.

Darcy never saw it coming but she _felt_ it. One second she’d been driving along, minding her own business and the next the air was punched out of her lungs with the force of the hit and the pain was _unreal_. Her last moment wasn’t a flicker of memories; she guesses she’ll just never be normal like that, nope, instead it was her thanking Thor that she was alone. As she chokes for air and actually feels her heart stutter to a stop, Darcy stares at a blood splattered picture that Josh had left in the back seat. _‘Huh, that’s us...’_ she thinks of the stick figure family and then she’s sucked into the pitch black of oblivion.

* 

**Still Tuesday.**  

Darcy flatlines on a Tuesday and nearly gives Tony Stark and the Avengers a collective heart attack.

 

_-Two hours earlier…_

Tony was bored and that never went well for anyone. He’d gotten up this morning, showered, ate breakfast, been a normal person and attempted to fiddle around with his bots.... Okay, maybe he wasn’t just another normal person. It hadn’t lasted long anyway. Although he knows that Steve and the Terminator always sat with Darcy in the mornings, he just couldn’t care less. And so he makes his way to the hospital and up to her floor. When he gets there he finds her room full of his teammates. When he walks in it’s with an annoyed snark.

“What, I didn’t get an invitation to this party?”

“I was about to call you!”  

“Suuure you were, Mr. Spangles.” Tony gives Steve a nasty grin and pushes his way past him to Darcy’s bed.

“She’s showing signs of waking up. Her toes and fingers have started twitching and her pulse seems to be getting more active as if she’s dreaming.” Bruce always says that he isn’t that kind of doctor, but he sure sounds like one. Tony flinches at the mention of dreaming and if anyone notices it, they choose to keep it to themselves.

“So what do we do?” he addresses Bruce and Natasha answers for him.

“We wait.”

 

_-Now._

“You’re cheating!” Tony accuses Natasha and throws his losing hand down on the ugly table and casts Barton a glare for laughing at him.

“And your point being?” is her only reply.

Sick of playing cards with the slick Russian and her birdbrain boyfriend, he turns his attention elsewhere and finds Steve and Barnes settled back against the window sill, their heads bent towards each other and talking quietly. Bucky notices Tony staring and glares at him, Steve just glances over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. He’d only been here two hours but he was getting bored again. The room was full and he was getting antsy, could you blame him?

Opting not to stare at the old (not Odd) couple anymore, Tony ticks his gaze over to where Darcy lays. She has in fact been twitching and the monitors are beeping steadily. He wonders if she’s dreaming or if she’s just been _out_ of it for the last week. A clack of thunder derails his train of thought and he chimes out, “Thor’s here!”

Three things happen simultaneously:

1\. Tony stands to his feet.

2\. The beeping machines go _insane_.

3\. And Darcy’s eyes pop open.

The room descends into utter chaos as Bruce rushes to her side, doctors and nurses pouring through the door that’s been slung open, he still doesn’t know who did that. The others try to pull him out of the room upon doctor’s orders, Bruce too busy to vouch for him, and it’s Steve that has to bodily usher him out of her hospital room. He hears it, hears her flatline and watches her eyes roll back in her head before her body collapses and the door is slammed in his face by a nurse.

Tony jerks away from Steve and the man raises his hands beseechingly, the tension in the air palpable because they _all_ heard that. Tony drags trembling hands over his face and walks down the hall a ways in an attempt to breathe. If she dies, he doesn’t know… Okay? He just doesn’t know what he’ll do. He can’t even think about it. It’s his fault and he just…

His ass finds the concrete of the floor as his back slides down the wall and he blinks unseeingly at the sterile wall across from him and he doesn’t even realize that there are tears slipping down his face until a blood-red handkerchief is waved in front of his blurry vision. He snatches it without looking at its owner and uses it to erase his display of weakness as a warm weight settles down next to him, too close to be someone he doesn’t know.

“You know, Darcy told me once that only real men cry. I think she’ll be proud of you and a little annoyed that you’re this worked up over her.”

Tony huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer Natasha a retort. His head thunks back against the wall and he blinks rapidly to clear his vision, his chest rising as he pulls in a deep resetting breath. He’s a little shocked when Natasha rests a warm palm atop his hand and he lets his head lull to the right to meet her intense gaze. Her voice is quite and reinforced with steel when she speaks.

“She’s going to be alright, Stark.”

Tony takes comfort in her words because Natasha sounds like she would go two rounds with Death himself if it came down to that. Thor and Jane arrive a couple minutes later and Nat pulls Tony to his feet and tugs him along behind her. Thor hugs Tony in a bear hug and for once he doesn’t hate it. Darcy, she’s made them all soft. Steve takes point and tells them what happened, catching them up while Tony stands between Barnes and Natasha. Barton who’d only been there for about an hour goes to get them all coffee while they wait. Jane cries a little and Steve gives her a hug. It’s all just so mushy and emotional, Tony wants to scream. Or he could use a drink. He idly wonders if Barton would make his coffee Irish.

Nearing an hour after Darcy flatlined, the doctors and nurses slowly begin to trickle from the room. Bruce finally emerges talking with her main doctor. Tony straightens his spine and watches intently as Bruce nods and shakes hands with the man before turning around to face the cluster of them crowded in the hall. He smiles tiredly and his voice is relieved when he speaks.

“She’s okay. The tube helping her breathe was choking her, and we aren’t sure why she coded yet, but she’s okay. She’s breathing on her own now.” He looks directly at Tony and his smile turns into the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen…

 

Darcy wakes up on a Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've made it halfway, I think. I'm so asdfghjkl right now. Are you happy? Because I am. And kinda sad. Being a writer is hard! Lol Also, I want to apologize for this chapter being so short, but I didn't really see any point in drawing it out. Hope ya'll are still hanging in there with me!


	9. Did I just imprint? I'm Tony Stark not Jacob Black!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy looks through rose colored glasses and Tony just wears beer goggles.

Pain, confusion, lack of oxygen, hands restraining her, utter chaos crashing like waves in her mind… Darcy wakes up with a violence inside of her bones. Her distorted vision is frantic as hands scrabble for something, anything to grasp onto that will aid in pulling her to shore. The screech of grating metal and the smell of burning wires are still trapped in her senses. She can’t make out what’s left and what’s right but she wants to, she needs to before she gets thrown back into that void where she’s left with nothing.

As if God had heard her desperate pleas for help, suddenly she can breathe and she drags air into her starved lungs. She’s never been a very spiritual person but she’d like to believe that her Granny teaching her how to pray had finally come in handy. Her gaze flickers still confused as she takes in the strange people around her, the bright lights, it takes her a minute to figure out where she is.

A warm and familiar voice at her left shoulder has her rolling her head in that direction and she manages to croak out a ‘Bruce?’ With each blink of her lids the fog clears just a little bit more from her warped mind and she sees him nod with what looks like a relieved smile gracing his features. He pats her left forearm lightly and turns his attention to the others huddled around her. She can’t make out everything being said, it’s all more of a dull roar, really. Darcy isn’t sure how long they converse around her, she seems to be losing time or something, but when there’s a tap on her shoulder, her lashes flutter opened.

“Here, take a drink, sip it slowly. Do you know where you are?”

Darcy sips from the straw and closes her eyes again as the cool water acts as a healing balm to her aching throat. When she opens her eyes, she squints at Bruce and manages to whisper, “Hos…Hospital?”

“That’s right. You’ve been in a coma for not quite a week.” He helpfully informs her. She just nods slowly because she thinks she figured that out before… Well, before.

“We were very worried, but you’ve had nothing but the best care. You have an injury on the right side of your torso, so try not to make sudden movements or you’ll pull your stitches…”

He continues to ramble on and Darcy frowns, her mind trying to catalogue her frame for pain, which is really stupid because she aches _everywhere_. And she was hit by a car, so she should be, right? Wait, where are the kids? Were they with her? No… Josh was in school, Buck—

“…So I’ll be right back and I promise we won’t stay long. Okay? Darcy?”

She blinks sluggishly and nods, not even caring what the man said as her adrenaline high begins to drift out of her system leaving her weak and confused. She watches he and another man she doesn’t recognize leave through a door to her right and she lets her gaze take stock of the room around her. It’s not a normal room she thinks, it looks too relaxed. Her eyes fall on the bed and she notices the tubes in her arm and ew, she hates needles. Her sight follows the IV up to the bag where it drips and she hopes they gave her the good stuff.

Not five minutes later the door is slowly pushed open and she rolls her head against the stiff pillow stuffed under her head and watches as the Avengers file into the room. Steve is first followed by Bucky, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Jane… Darcy stares at them and she really wants to laugh but she thinks it would hurt since simply breathing does. They block her line of sight to the door as they gather around her bed and she lets her gaze land on Clint. He seems so serious, they all do and Darcy can’t help but to ask in a rough whisper.

“Who died?”

For all of ten incredibly long seconds absolute silence reigns supreme. And then Clint cracks a grin, Steve rolls his eyes and she swears that Barnes’ chuckle is filled with relief.

“No one dies on our watch, Doll.”

Darcy manages some weak semblance of a smile and she’s sure it looks more like a grimace instead. They don’t seem to care one way or the other. She lets her gaze ghost over all of them and wonders where Thor and Tony are before she’s interrupted by a teary eyed Jane, her hand hovering over Darcy’s like she’s afraid she might break her if she touches her.

“We’re just so glad you’re okay. Don’t you ever do something so stupid like that again!”

Her brows furrow as she wonders exactly what it was she did. She doesn’t like being accused of shit. A cold yet gentle pressure on her right hand draws her gaze away from Jane and she sees metal fingers clasping her own and she follows Barnes’ arm up to his face with a slow blink. He’s smiling at her but his shoulders seem heavy, like they’ve been carrying too much weight. She wants to hug him. And then she remembers the last time she hugged him and her grip finds a new strength to tighten around the plates of metal in her grasp.

“Lee… You’ve got—she’s okay, right? Did you take her to Tony?”

Bucky’s eyebrows raise in question and concern before he flicks a confused look around at the others. Darcy just squeezes his hand and waits for his answer. She knows Lee will be okay, Tony will be okay as long as he has the kids. He’ll be okay without her, right? Her eyes begin to tear up and she doesn’t realize that she’s crying and choking out Tony’s name until Bucky easily dislodges her grip and steps back. She’s about to start yelling at him but Thor decides to help her out.

“Our friend Tony is right here, Darcy, do not dismay.”

Darcy’s eyes widen as if summoned, Thor pushes a disgruntled looking Tony towards her bed between Steve and Bucky with a heavy and guiding hand on his shoulder like he’s worried Tony might run away. She’s confused, but she’s elated. Tony is there and he’s a sight for her sore eyes. She makes a failed attempt to make grabby hands at him and she misses the way his eyes widen just a little at such a display. Thor stands too close to Tony and Bucky jerks his head at the shorter man, his glare promising menace if he doesn’t grow some balls. Darcy misses it all, she’s too busy looking Tony over and feeling lightheaded.

Tony steps up to her bed and tentatively pokes her palm with a single fingertip. Darcy huffs and gives him her best try at a glare and it isn’t until he finally meets her gaze that Darcy’s world seems to stop spinning. His oh so warm hand grasps hers like she’s one of his precious projects and the entire room and all of their friends just fade into the background. At that moment there was nothing else in the universe that meant more to Darcy.

She was home.

 

* * *      * * * 

‘Touching her was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you.’

*

 

Tony felt the world shift under his feet as he stared into Darcy’s eyes. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to, and he wanted to, desperately. He didn’t want to fall in love; it was icky and in his experiences only left scars. And yet, he couldn’t do a damn thing. He was powerless against this force of nature, this slip of a girl that had blown into his world like she belonged there. Did he mention that he hated not having control? But as he watched her long eyelashes flutter to her pale cheeks like some damn Disney princess, he could only _feel_. He couldn’t even stop himself as he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her brow. It wasn’t until a throat cleared behind him that he snapped to awareness.

Straightening, Tony gently eased his hand out of Darcy’s now lax hold, giving her one last look over to keep him company in the coming days, and stepped away from her bed. Shrugging Thor’s hand from his shoulder, he backed directly into Barnes and glanced at the assassin. He did not like that calculating gaze. He had to get out of here. _Create a diversion_! his head supplied and since he was never (okay, seldom) wrong, went with it.

“So, who the hell is Lee? Does anyone know what she was ranting about?”

He glanced around the room and came up short with their collective shrug. Jane was the only one to have anything to say.

“Uh, Darcy’s mom’s name is Lee. Maybe she was worried she’d seen the attack on the news or something? I mean her mom doesn’t know exactly what it is Darce does, but she knows it’s in New York and with some very important people…” Jane shrugged and sagged into Thor’s side.

“Huh… Maybe I need to talk to Pepper about that. I’ll just go do that now. Bruce, come by the lab later, yeah? Or call, whatever. Okay, I’m just gonna…” Tony jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he skirted around Cap’n and his cyborg boyfriend wanting to make a quick exit before anyone could question his motives or strange (stranger than usual) behavior. With a nod and a wave of dismissal, he slips out the door avoiding eye contact with any of his teammates.

It isn’t until he’s settled back in his lab with a new bottle of scotch and staring at a pile of twisted metal that he realizes that he is utterly fucked. She’s alive, he didn’t get her killed. He doesn’t do well with feelings; he was stupid enough to fall in love with her despite that. He _thinks_ the feeling is mutual and she’s just as stupid as he is and; He’s fucked. These are the cold hard facts. And what’s he plan on doing about it? That’s the $64 dollar question isn’t it? DAMMIT! Darcy and her damn TV shows. See? She gets in like a drug and takes over, but the catch is, you don’t know you need her until she’s gone. In his case, until she almost died.

Tony knows he’s not flawless, on the contrary, he’s chock full of dents and bangs and enough daddy issues to last him four lifetimes. So why would she look at him like he’s the greatest thing in the world when she probably couldn’t even recite the alphabet? HA! That’s it; she was just so out of it from the trauma and all of the drugs they’d been pumping into her system that she hadn’t meant to look at him like that. That’s it, it was the morphine talking. He likes that excuse, it’s safe. It’s less terrifying than the actual truth of the matter.

So back to the question at hand; what does he plan to do about his not so newly found emotions? Absolutely nothing. He’s the king of avoidance. He will avoid it and push it so far down that no one will be able to see it. That’s a grand plan he thinks and takes a swig straight from his bottle. And then he proceeds to get shitfaced and accidentally blow up a computer. No one bothers him that night.

 

*

 

Emerging from his self induced isolation the next morning with a raging hangover, he takes the elevator down from his penthouse to the shared kitchen in the hopes that someone will fix him. He isn’t above wearing his sunglasses indoors and looking like a douchebag (as Darcy has informed him on many occasions, he winces at her voice in his head) and trudges into the kitchen finding no one. He looks down at his watch and frowns at his bare wrist.

“Jarvis, what time is it?”

“It is seventeen minutes past three in the afternoon, Sir. I do believe you have missed lunch.”

Grunting out a nonverbal reply, Tony moves over towards the fridge and opens the door. He stares at the shelves and doesn’t find anything that doesn’t make his stomach want to turn itself inside out so he closes it and leaves the way he came in. Once back on the top floor he makes it as far as his couch and collapses across it, his face smooshed uncomfortably into the cushions and his sunglasses digging into his skin.

Tony dozes on and off for a couple hours only waking when something hits the back of his head. He jerks awake and groans at the sudden movement and the sight of the assassin staring at him where she’s perched on the edge of his expensive coffee table. Tugging his shades off, he gives her his ‘What the fuck do you want?’ face only earning an unblinking stare for his effort. She breaks the silence first.

“I know what you’re doing and you’re stupid. Stop it.”

“I’m taking a nap and you woke me up. Of course you know what I’m doing. And no, I wasn’t finished so you can stop insulting me and leave. How’d you even get in here? Jarvis, you’re fired.”

“If you say so, Sir.”

Tony glares at his unwanted guest for corrupting his AI even if he’s the one who programmed him that way. Finally his nose gets with the program and he perks up at the smell of greasy food, his stomach catching on and growling instead of rolling for once. He doesn’t remember how much he’d had to drink, but if he had to guesstimate he was going with enough to kill a small horse.

“When you didn’t answer Bruce’s calls last night, he contacted Jarvis. When you never showed back up to the hospital today _I_ contacted Jarvis. Don’t expect me to cater to you again. Steve and James spent the day with Darcy. They’re keeping her for the remainder of the week for observation and she’ll be released sometime Sunday. Bruce, along with a nurse, will be helping her with her recovery here. I expect you to get your head out of your ass in the meantime.”

With that Natasha stands and tosses a bag that had been behind her (and oh does it smell heavenly) onto his chest. He frowns as she leaves him with nothing but food and her words ringing in his ears. He pulls a burger from the bag and bites into it with a groan. As he chews he wonders just what Natasha thinks she knows. He was excellent at hiding things, what if he’d had a little drink to celebrate the fact that Darcy was alive? There was nothing wrong with that.

No, what was wrong is that he vaguely remembers dreaming about Darcy, dancing with her and basically repeating his odd dream from the night he’d fallen asleep in her room. It unsettles him. He doesn’t like things that he doesn’t understand, that he can’t take apart and piece them back together so they make sense to him. And this entire situation is one big puzzle that he can’t find the screws to. He can hear them rattling around but he can’t get them into place and it’s just frustrating!

Tossing his trash back into the bag, Tony swipes the bottle of water that had mysteriously appeared on his table and takes a sip to wash down his food. When he’s done he flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling. He feels like he’s out at sea and while it’s much better conditions than the desert was, he still feels lost. Holding Darcy’s hand the day before, it had anchored him and now here he was sawing through the anchor’s rope like he was being dragged down. Ugh. Dragging a hand over his face he tries to clear his mind of any and all analogies. His sobering brain can’t take these thoughts right now.

Letting his eyes close, he decides to just take another nap. Maybe he could come up with something when he was more focused. He could prove to himself that he could resist temptation. Even if that temptation came in the form of a beautiful woman that looked at him like he held all of the secrets of the universe.

He was so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooo sorry this chapter is so damn short. I've been really sick the last couple days and I wanted so bad to get a chapter out that I wrote until I couldn't think straight anymore. Next chapter will be back to normal length, tho!   
> Also, with Teen Wolf's finale Monday night and Winter Soldier coming out Tuesday, I suspect I won't be getting the next chapter out till Wednesday.  
> Please see Clint in the common kitchen to get your 'I'm Sorry' brownies because I'm all kinds of sorry.  
> I love you all!


	10. Touchy, touchy, robot...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which; Darcy gets cuddly with some assassins and Tony takes a boat ride down a well known river (and almost gets eaten by a spider).

For the next three days Darcy works on sweeping the cobwebs from her mind and stepping firmly into reality. It isn’t easy but with the way that her friends stop by as if they’re on some sort of schedule or something, she does it. She doesn’t question Jane on Friday when she tells her that her mom sends her love and wants her to call her as soon as she’s able. She doesn’t even _want_ to imagine how her mom found out about her injuries. She doesn’t question Steve that same Friday night when he stares at her for too long, like he’s trying to figure something out. Instead she calls his bluff and wins thirty bucks off of him sending Barnes into helpless laughter. Steve has a bad poker face, she’s not sorry.

What she wants to question (although she keeps it to herself) is the fact that she hasn’t seen Tony yet. She vaguely remembers seeing him once but she’d been so out of it that Clint had had to tell her about how she’d scared them all with a seizure before she woke up. She doesn’t remember more than missing her (dream, she knows that now) kids and having the sound of grating metal playing on a loop when she closed her eyes. They had been giving her the good drugs as it turns out because all she wants to do is sleep.

And it’s frustrating. Yes, she’s naturally a lazy person, but since moving to New York it’d been gogogo and now she was confined to a hospital bed. Color Darcy not a very happy camper. That Saturday she’d woken up to Clint sprawled in the ridiculous leather recliner that had no place in a hospital, with coffee balanced on his thigh and thumbing through something on his phone. She’d blinked sleepily at him and made grabby hands. To which he’d rolled his eyes but heaved out of his slump and glanced around like he was going to get caught before sneaking her a sip of his coffee. He was currently her favorite.

After he’d helped her to the ensuite bathroom and stood guard outside the door, she’d emerged a little more awake and with minty fresh breath. They’d kind of created a routine and she’d never had expected it to be Barton of all people, but he was keeping her close and she found she didn’t mind all that much. They were halfway back to her bed when her door opened and Natasha strolled in followed by Pepper. Darcy has to fight back a groan.

“Brushing your teeth doesn’t help. I know he let you have coffee.”

Darcy simply flips Natasha off and huffs a breath out as Clint helps her ease back against her pillows.

“Well, you certainly look like you could use a vacation.” Pepper states as she smiles politely at Darcy.

“I don’t _want_ a vacation, Boss. I want to be busy, I’m tired of sleeping!”

“You’re on leave for two weeks starting Monday and I won’t take no for an answer. You can work from your apartment on the things that aren’t urgent, but you’re not to come in.”

“Awww, come on! I’m not disabled, I just have stitches! I can walk, so there’s no use in me sitting in the tower!”

“I’m sorry, Darcy, but that’s company policy. You save your employer’s life and you’re bound to get paid time off. That’s final. I’ll stop by some time Monday and bring you some things.”

Darcy just gaped like a fish as Pepper smiled at her, the tilt of her lips tinted with fond amusement and then she patted her hand, nodded at the two master assassins then pivoted on her heel and left as quickly as she’d came. Darcy snapped her mouth shut and twisted slowly to the side to glare at the redhead.

“Alright, what did you do? Two weeks, seriously? I’m going to go insane!”

Natasha just raised her hands in a placating manner and shrugged but her smirk said she knew a hell of a lot more than she was letting on.

“We’ll keep you company, Darce. Don’t worry we won’t let you go crazy. I promise.”

She just rolled her eyes at Clint and slumped back against her wilting pillows. She knew they meant well but she _already_ had an itch under her skin and it’d been three days just in this place. And she missed Tony more than she was willing to admit. He couldn’t even come see her and nope, she wasn’t even going down that road, that way lie madness. He wasn’t her husband and they weren’t married here. She had to stop with those thoughts before they ate her alive.

The rest of her Saturday is spent playing cards with Clint and Natasha, making Coulson’s left eye twitch when he stops by and playing a hilarious game of I Spy with Thor when he’d shown up to replace Nat and Hawkguy for the night. She falls asleep during a tale of drunken Asgardian antics that led to Thor riding some kind of beast into the halls of his home.

That night she dreams of being held in warm arms while a cool breeze blows off the surface of a lake.

 

*

 

Darcy wakes up that Sunday to the sound of voices outside her door. She fumbles to reach her glasses on the table next to the bed and pulls them on just as her doctor and Clint step into the room.

“Ah, good, you’re awake, Miss. Lewis.”

She gives the older man what she hopes is a polite smile as her brain, still cloudy with sleep, supplies her with a stupid, _‘Mrs. Stark sounded so much better.’_ She pushes her glasses up onto her forehead as she fakes a yawn and presses the pads of her fingers into her eyes, chastising her traitor mind. As the doctor begins talking to her about her being discharged, she readjusts her glasses and ignores Clint’s intent stare.

“Alright, now, I’ll be back in ten minutes and well do your check up, you can sign the papers and you’ll be good to go.”

Darcy nods at him and watches him leave before finally glancing at Clint.

“No coffee? And where’s Steve? I thought he and Barnes were taking me home today?” she asks as she attempts to stretch out the kinks in her frame, wincing slightly when the motion pulls at her stitches.

“Nat and me told them we’d come get you. You got a problem with that?”

Rolling her eyes, she slowly sits up and eases her feet to the edge of the bed, pushing her hair back off of her shoulder with a sigh. She wants a hot shower and her own bed. And her TV, God she misses her shows. And Jarvis. She misses the AI and it feels like forever since she’s set foot into the tower. In all honesty she just wants to go home. She ignores the _‘home to Tony_ ’ that follows that thought.

Clint holds out an arm and she gratefully uses it to propel herself to her feet. Once she’s shuffled into the bathroom and done her business, she lifts up the hoodie she’d stolen from Barnes two nights before and glares at the ugly healing wound on her ribcage. Stupid aliens and their stupid craving for power and world domination. They just had to go and fuck her up. If Steve hadn’t told her that they’d taken them out and sent them packing, she’d want to kill at least thirty of them, and she could probably do it with sheer willpower, too.

Not wanting to worry the archer, she fixes her comfy clothes (one good thing was that she’d been ordered to only wear loose fitting clothes and sweat pants and hoodies were awesome) and opens the bathroom door. He teases her about walking so slow that she looks like she should be Steve and Bucky’s age and all she can do is pinch the fuck out of his arm and give him an IOU for an ass kicking when she’s healed. His laughter is interrupted by Natasha pushing into the room with Darcy’s doctor and she can’t help giving Clint her best pouty face when Nat tells her they’ll be waiting in the hall.

Darcy hates hospitals, the sterile stench and knowledge that there were dead bodies of people who’d been alive when they came in, floors below her. And doctors always have cold hands and fake smiles and just, ugh. She was so glad she was going home. At least she could poke fun at Bruce and he didn’t look like any doctor. But she’s nice, or tries to be anyway, even keeping her brain to mouth filter on firm lockdown as the doctor gives her a once over. Once he’s finished and deemed her fit enough to leave the hospital she releases an exhale of relief and kills over onto her left side as he leaves.

“You ready to get out of here, kid?”

“Call me kid one more time and I swear I’ll tell Tony who got me to post that video of him drunk and singing Queen on his Twitter.”

“Ouch, you hurt me, baby.”

“You’re an ass, Clinton.”

“Oh, now you’re just asking for it!”

“Children.”

“Yes, mother?”

Natasha’s hand thumping against the back of Clint’s head is her only reply as she skirts around him, grabbing Barnes’ hoodie that Darcy had to remove for her checkup.

“Would you like me to put your hair up?” Nat asks as she helps Darcy into the soft fleece material.

“You’re my hero.” Darcy says and sticks her tongue out at Clint where he rolls his eyes at her from his perch on the window sill.

Natasha brushes Darcy’s hair then expertly coils it into a ballerina’s bun on the top of her head, patting her shoulder once she’s done and steps back to admire her work with a nod of approval. Darcy smiles at her and asks Clint if he’s seen her shoes. She hasn’t worn shoes this entire time and she doesn’t even know if she has a pair there. He slips off the sill and grabs a bag that she hadn’t seen sitting there and her eyes widen as he pulls out her favorite socks and a pair of trainers.

Having an Avenger get down on bent knee and help you put your shoes and socks on is a humbling experience. And he doesn’t say a word about her prickly legs, which Darcy is grateful of. His huff of amusement at the knee high black socks with a TARDIS pattern on them is his only comment. She smiles at him once he stands and she feels just a little more grounded.

The ride back to the tower is like one of those slow motion movie moments. The sun is shining on Darcy’s upturned face and the wind whipping through the open window is roaring in her ears and it’s perfect. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the city with all of its loud noises and clutter. Compared to her dream world that had been small town suburbia, she likes this better. Her gaze is drawn to a woman walking down the sidewalk, a small kid on her hip and another tucked safely between her and a man, Darcy’s assuming is the kid’s dad. She watches as the woman bounces the toddler and smiles and she squeezes her eyes shut as a pang of longing courses through her. She’d been so good at pushing it all down, even the missing Tony thing, and now here with one family sighting she’s ready to fall apart.

She’s suddenly exhausted down to her very soul.

They pull around and into the private garage of the tower and Darcy is so very glad that she’s almost there. Just a little while longer and she can fall apart on her own. Once they’re parked, Natasha fluidly exits the driver’s side and moves around to Darcy’s side to help her out of the backseat. Clint grabs the bag out of the trunk and switches with Nat, moving to wrap an arm around Darcy’s waist, tucking her carefully into his side where she gives up a little of her pride and leans heavily into him. Her fight is gone and she just wants to take off her mask of pretending she’s okay and go back to sleep.

As Darcy enters the elevator that will take them to the residential floors, she’s greeted by a voice that makes her smile sappily despite her current disposition.

“Welcome home, Miss. Darcy.”

“J-Man, you have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice.”

“I am glad to hear that. Good day, Agent Barton, Agent Romanova. Shall I tell Sir you have arrived?”

“NO!”

“Very well, Miss Darcy. Again, welcome home.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

She ignores Natasha’s curious gaze drilling a hole into her head and turns her face into Clint’s shirt, willing her heart to stop trying to escape. She takes in slow and deep breaths to keep from sobbing and curses every alien race that exists for turning her into a whimpering idiot. If she’d never gotten shot she wouldn’t have had that dream. And without that she would have went on her way happy to flirt with Tony and ignore her feelings. God, she hated this crap. She wasn’t built to put up with this emotional shit. Darcy attempts to covertly swipe at a few stray tears that have managed to squeeze from her lids and silently thanks Clint as he remains silent but tightens his arm just a little around her.

They reach her apartment without further incident and she isn’t surprised when they follow her in like they live there. She figures she might as well get used to it because for the next two weeks she was going to be under constant watch. She knows how they are and with her in the building instead of the hospital, she just _knows_ that they’re going to drive her insane.

“Why don’t you take a shower and let me find us something decent to eat?”

“Um… yeah, that actually sounds nice, thanks.”

“No problem, Sweets.”

Darcy gives Clint a small smile from where he’s poking around in her probably bare cabinets and ambles toward her bedroom. She almost cries again (okay, she does) at the sight of the teddy bear sitting on her pillows and the fresh flowers on her dresser. Plucking the bear from the bed she hugs it to her chest as she rips open the card it’d been sitting on top of. ‘From all of us, but the bear is from me and Bucky. Get well, Doll.’ All of them have signed the card that depicts a cute bunny rabbit with a band aid on its brow. Tony’s tight scrawl in the bottom left corner makes her just cry harder.

She didn’t even hear Natasha come in behind her but she blinks when the card is lightly taken from her hand and placed on her nightstand. She furrows a brow at the other woman when she goes to take the bear too.

“It will be here when you get out of the shower. Come on, get some clean clothes while I turn the water on. I’m staying with you so don’t even argue.”

Darcy sighs heavily and relinquishes her bear to Nat before moving to her dresser and pulling out clean undies, sports bra, yoga pants, and a T-shirt. At least she doesn’t need actual help showering or she’d be really annoyed at the moment. Having an assassin sitting on your toilet while you shower though is still a little unreal. Darcy winces as she washes her hair, movement a little stiff when she raises her right arm a little too high. But it gets done and Darcy doesn’t even have the grace to be modest as she dries off and changes with Natasha looking on. She’s that tired.

After Nat helps her dry her hair and even braids it for her, they move into the living room where something smells so good that Darcy’s mouth waters. Her eyes widen as she sees the meal laid out on her small dining table. She knows she didn’t have all that food when she’d left for work over a week ago.

“I know I didn’t have all of that in my apartment, so where’d you steal it?”

“Stark had Steve go through your cabinets and got Jarvis to call in an order so you’d be stocked up when you got back.”

Her mouth falls open and she just stares at Clint because, _what_?

“What? It’s just spaghetti, Darcy. Not complicated. Now come eat before you fall over.”

Natasha nudges her in the direction of the table from behind and Darcy closes her mouth and does as she’s told. Clint is an okay cook and it’s actually good (or she’s just starved). She eats until she’s afraid she’ll pop a stitch if she eats another bite. Clint waves her offer to clean up off and orders her onto the couch. She only goes because her stomach is full and her eyes are starting to feel heavy. She powers up her TV and smiles tiredly when she finds The Walking Dead DVD still in the player. Twenty minutes into an episode and Natasha and Clint join her and arrange her in the middle of them. They all settle down comfortably together to watch Rick and Daryl kick walker ass. With her head pillowed on Clint’s thigh, his hand resting on her hip, carefully aware of her injured side, and her legs draped over Natasha’s lap, Darcy drifts off to the sounds of Beth Greene serenading the prison.

 

 

* * *      * * *

 

“Nice touch with the flowers, Stark.”

Tony does not startle. He merely flinches.

“Hello to you too, Natasha. I’m fine thanks. And I know that I’m brilliant, thanks for your vote of confidence, though. The door is to your left, feel free to use it the same way in which you entered. Only opposite.”

“Are you going to go up and see her?”

He sighs and gives up working on the wires he’d been fiddling with and tosses them down onto his table. Spinning around in his chair he levels a look at the woman. Crossing his arms he mirrors her posture.

“Why is it such a big deal to you? Are you playing matchmaker now?”

“She doesn’t remember waking up, but she isn’t as stable as she’s trying to appear.”

“I’ll recommend her to one of my therapists.”

“She misses you, Tony and she’s confused.”

“Dammit! Stop, alright, just stop it. She doesn’t remember waking up, that’s great, less for me to deal with. If she needs help, I’m sure she’ll get it from somewhere. She doesn’t need me poking at her. And she isn’t the only one fucking confused! So just quit with the “I am the Black Widow and you will do my bidding’ spiel. She’s fine without me, nice and cozy with your boy toy. So I’ll stay here and she can cuddle up with the rest of you and heal. Okay? Okay. Glad we had that talk, now get out.”

He watches Natasha’s jaw tick dangerously, it’s such a small, minute detail but he catches it all the same. She stares at him for twenty agonizing seconds before spinning on her heels and leaving the same way she’d came in. And she doesn’t even give him the satisfaction of slamming the damn door. Good, maybe she’ll go murder someone in Siberia or something and stop bugging him. Letting out a pent up breath, Tony drags his hands over his face feeling old.

For the last three days he’d buried himself in his shop and drowned out his thoughts with loud music and his tools. Knowing that Darcy was awake had been slowly rotting his brain but he knew he had to resist. He could do it! He just hadn’t realized how hard it was actually _going_ to be. And that was before she’d come back home. Back to the tower, he means back to the tower.

Steve had shown up with a smile Friday night and attempted to tell him how well she was healing and how excited she was to be coming home (back to the tower, dammit) and had forced him to sign some ridiculous card. Then Steve had left and left behind a nagging thought in Tony’s mind. He’d refused to acknowledge it but it wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d made Jarvis ask Steve to check Darcy’s apartment for food. He was just the man behind the curtain, right? This didn’t count as him being too involved.

The flowers, though, he doesn’t know how those happened.

Groaning, Tony folds his arms atop his workspace and drops his forehead onto them with a thud. He’d thought he’d been doing well and then she’d come back here looking all tired and huddled against Barton’s side with Natasha hovering around her like a damn mother hen. Yes, he’d been watching the feed when they’d arrived. Sue him, he can afford it. He blames Jarvis; _he_ had been the one to alert him that they’d pulled in.

He’d watched her smile at the ceiling when Jarvis addressed her and he’d watched her shout and shrink into Clint’s chest at the mere mention of him. Yeah, way to stroke a guy’s ego. Not that his really needed stroking but that’s beside the point. He’d saw her wipe tears from her face and he just… He’s tired. He doesn’t know what he did, doesn’t understand how she could have forgotten that _moment_ they’d had when she woke up. And oh, would you just listen to that, he sounds like a fucking twelve year old girl. Maybe he could just get Natasha to come back and kill him with her thighs. What a way to go.

Tony bangs his head against his arms repeatedly and wonders how drunk he can get with the few half empty bottles of alcohol he has sitting around down here.

He never thought he’d be jealous of Barton or Natasha, but when he’d asked Jarvis how she was and was informed that she was cuddled up to the two assassins and sleeping, he’d thrown a wrench at the wall. He needs a lobotomy, because at this point he’s pretty certain that it would be the only thing to get Darcy out of his head. And then Natasha just had to come down into his sanctuary and act like _he_ was the one doing something wrong. And she’d only confirmed what he’d already suspected that Darcy didn’t remember the other day. He wishes he didn’t either.

“Sir, Captain Rogers requests your presence in the communal kitchen.”

“Tell him I’m not hungry or I already ate, or I’m busy. All of the above, J, I don’t care.”

“It is done, Sir.”

Tony sighs as something runs into his leg and jams itself between him and the chair he’s in. He moves his head and straightens his arms as he glances down at the robot. He scowls at it when it seems to wait patiently on him to order it about or something.

“Why did I even make you? You’re just as useless as Dum-E, aren’t you?”

Its only appendage whacks him in the knee with a seemingly happy whirl.

“Ow! Hey, watch it. I can take you apart and use you for scraps.”

Tony glares at the miniature (female, don’t ask him, he just knows) version of his idiot robot and wonders where in the hell he’s going to find a bow without raising anyone’s suspicions that he’s up to something.

“Go play with something, shoo. Leave me alone.”

He nudges the thing away and turns back to his table. Maybe he can just _make_ a bow for it… That way it’ll know it’s a girl. He doesn’t even know why he made it in the first place. Shut up. He knows why, he’d just rather float down the river denial. With that thought, he gets Jarvis to turn his music back on and sets out to make a stupid little bow, for the stupid little bot that he made Darcy, just so he can get it out of his shop. Not to see her smile. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I really wasn't gonna write/post a new chapter till later on but after reading your all's comments I just couldn't resist. This story has eaten my brain. Anywho, hope you enjoy!


	11. How to run away in socks...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy sees the light, no, not that one. Tony sees an angel, yes, that one.

Three days into Darcy’s ‘vacation’ she’s woken up out of a sound sleep to the sounds of muffled cursing coming from her living room. Irritated for the interruption she grabs her glasses and plunks them onto her face, shrugging into Barnes’ stolen hoodie to cover her too-short sleep shorts and tank top and climbs out of her warm bed. Flinging the bedroom door open she glares at the object of her annoyance not caring that she looks like a hot mess, hair sleep tousled, pillow creases on her face, and holding Henry’s arm like an irate toddler. (Yes, she named the bear Steve and Bucky got her Henry. It seemed appropriate.)

“What in the hell are you doing in my apartment, Barton?”

“I was going to make you breakfast but I was assaulted when Jarvis let me in.”

Darcy narrows her gaze to mere slits and grits her teeth. She loves them all, really but this no privacy thing was getting on her nerves. Seriously.

“You were assaulted by _what_ considering I’m the only one here and short of tasing you, I can’t fight at the moment?”

Clint huffs and turns his sternest stare on something by his leg that she can’t see for the couch. Sighing loudly, Darcy emerges from her room and walks around the couch, fixing Henry under her arm so she can have both hands free to plant them on her hips if Clint’s being ridiculous. When she rounds the arm of the couch she stops in her tracks and just stares.

Sitting by Barton’s leg is a robot. It’s a mini-version of Dum-E and it looks like it had tried to trip the archer and when it didn’t succeed it’d just whacked him in the knee as hard as it could. Or at least the way he was rubbing his right knee, that’s what she was guessing happened. It has an honest to Thor whimsically crooked Iron Man maroon bow welded to the joint where the arm connects and a tag hanging off of the arm. Blinking down at it for a minute she watches as it turns in her direction, whirling happily as if the sight of her pleased it.

Darcy’s gaze flicks up to Clint and she opens her mouth to say _something_ but she just closes it back because she’s stumped. Her eyes fall back onto the bot and she pulls Henry to her chest as the thing rolls away from Barton and towards her. She has to stop herself from taking a step back. It seems harmless, right? It stops about three feet in front of her and extends its arm (it only reaches to about the middle of Darcy’s torso when fully extended) and clacks its fingers together at her.

Looking back up at Clint, she frowns at the bemused smirk curving his mouth.

“I think it wants you to pet it.”

“You, shut up. J-Man, why the hell is there a UFR in my apartment?”

“My apologies, Miss. Darcy but I do not understand that acronym.”

“Unidentified Fucking Robot.”

“Noted. That would be Sir, Miss. Lewis. I was instructed to tell you to read the tag.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Bending slightly and ignoring the twinge in her stomach from momentarily forgetting her healing wound, Darcy carefully unties the string that the tag hangs from. Opening the small envelope, she pulls the card out and reads the tightly scrawled words printed across the front. She has to read it three times before she can wrap her head around it, her gaze ticking between the words and the bot.

Laughter bubbles up without her permission and Darcy can’t stop once she starts. Clutching Henry to her chest, she stares down at her present and laughs harder not even paying attention to Clint who avoids the bot like it’s a bomb and snatches the card out of her hand to read.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Darcy has to lean back against the couch arm to support herself as she snorts at Clint’s perplexed face. Wiping wetness from her eyes she inhales deeply and glances back down at the machine with a smile. Tony made her a damn robot. She decides then that she’s going to name it Minnie because of the bow and its mini status. (And it’ll drive Stark mad because ‘ _really, named it after a damn mouse?’_ she can hear him now.)

The card reads: ‘ _Are you my mummy’?_ and Darcy has never been happier that she made Tony marathon Doctor Who with her.

 

*

 

She explains what the card means to Barton, names the bot and sees what it can do. It works just like Dum-E and apparently was programmed to recognize her voice. Clint isn’t fond of it (‘ _Her,_ Clint, it’s a she!) but Darcy has a new best friend. She tells them to play nice and goes to take a shower leaving him to make them breakfast like he’d planned on doing before Minnie got a hold of him.

Fresh from the shower and dressed in yoga pants and a Captain America T-shirt, Darcy eats with Clint before settling into the corner of her couch for the day. She finds that Minnie is a little smarter than Dum-E and responds well to her commands. It’s like having a metal dog and dude; she has a K-9! She makes Clint watch the two episodes of Doctor Who that coincide with Tony’s note and she snickers as he continues to watch but from the start of Nine’s run.

With Barton on the other end of the couch, Henry by her hip, and Minnie seemingly standing guard next to her arm of the couch, Darcy gets to work. Pepper, as promised had dropped by that Monday and left her a stack of contracts and other odds and ends that she could work on from home. She was grateful that she wasn’t just sitting around doing nothing, but it was still a little boring.

After three more episodes, Clint stands up and rolls his head cracking his neck and clears his throat making Darcy glance up from her laptop screen.

“I’ve gotta go meet Nat and Coulson but I’ll be back later. Steve said he’d be by around four, but call me if you need anything?”

“I’m in a tower with Iron Man, Bruce Banner, and the former Winter Soldier. I think I can handle myself alone for a while, Barton. Go to lunch.”

At his eye roll, she shoos him out of her apartment and once the door swings shut it’s with a sigh of relief. The way that they’d set up a rotation to ‘keep her company’ you’d think that she’d died or something. Oh, shut up, you know what she means! Glancing at Minnie, she rolls her eyes at the bot and smiles when it seems to nod in response to her exasperation.

Her day is serene and quiet and she revels in it, this being the first time she’s really been alone since she’d woken up from her coma. She works for about another hour after Clint leaves before getting up and making herself a sandwich. See, she’s not handicapped, dammit! She even takes a little nap after she eats. But when she wakes up her apartment has been invaded again. This time it’s with Steve and Barnes. At least they’re much quieter than Clint had been that morning.

Steve grins at her shirt and Bucky just glares at Cap’s cowl covered face stretched across her cleavage. She offers to get the stuff and make a Bucky Barnes shirt so he’ll be satisfied and his eyes get a little wide at that. He’s still not fully used to anyone other than Steve showing him affection. Darcy loves it.

“So, Stark made you a robot, huh?”

“Looks that way.” Darcy knew this was coming she was just hoping it was later, much later.

“Have you seen him yet, I mean since you got back home?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ and ignores their shared look that she suspects she isn’t supposed to see.

“He just let himself into your apartment while you were asleep, dropped that off and left, then?”

“Yes, Steve.”

“He’s a bastard.”

“Bucky, don’t talk about Stark that way. He had a father.”

“I didn’t mean it literally, jackass.”

Darcy tunes them out after that, the mention of Howard making a pain behind her eyes flare to life. She’d been steadily avoiding anything and everything that might set her back into her mopey state. She wanted to live in the now, not some dream world. She doesn’t want to think about the smell of baby powder and crayons, the way Lee would greet her every morning with ‘Mama, ma, maaaa!’ Darcy doesn’t _want_ to remember the way Tony’s hands had mapped her body, the smell of sex mingled with his cologne… She doesn’t want to think about any of it because if she does she will fucking crumble like a house of cards.

“Darcy?”

“Huh?” Her head snaps up to meet Bucky’s worried gaze, her own shuttering down over her thoughts before any can escape and be fleshed out in the open air.

“You alright, Doll? You kinda zoned out there for a minute.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just tired I guess. I was trying to remember if I already took my antibiotics.”

They seem to swallow her excuses down easily and she sighs and deflates a little. She hates lying to them but it’s better than trying to explain her kind of crazy.

 

*

 

And so the rest of her week goes. Get up, eat with whoever’s there. They switch out at lunch, she gets a small window to herself, and then spends the rest of the afternoon/night with whoever takes the nightshift of ‘Mission: Babysit Darcy’. It’s what she’s calling it until she can think of something better.

Six days go by.

She’s been home for six damn days and hasn’t seen hide nor hair of Tony Stark. And Darcy, she’s getting a little fed up with it. Actually she’s getting a lot fed up with it and with everything else. She can’t leave the apartment for what she isn’t escorted right back with a ‘We’ll get you what you want, just sit down and rest.’ Darcy is so fucking tired of r _esting_. She’s on edge and she kinda wants to murder someone.

And her dreams, did she mention that they’re more vivid than they had been since she woke up? Because they are. This time around they’re only memories of her dream world but they’re the highlights; Josh smiling, Lee laughing, Tony’s face when he’d pushed her up against the wall like he couldn’t get enough of her. All of the best moments on fucking repeat and Darcy just wants to _scream_.

It’s Saturday night and the Avengers have decided to camp out in her living room. It’s not small by any means but they’re some big guys and like she said, Darcy is on edge. The only two who aren’t there are Bruce and Tony. (Of course Stark isn’t there, of fucking course.) Darcy is in her preferred corner on the couch with Minnie next to the arm where she stays when Darcy’s there. She’s huddled in on herself with her legs tucked under her ass and arms wrapped around the pillow she’d dragged in from her bedroom.

Steve and Bucky have moved the table aside and are settled next to and between the recliner and couch, legs stretched out to trip anyone who gets in their way. Jane’s in the recliner messing with a tablet and ignoring everyone. Natasha is on the other end of the couch with Clint sprawled out between the two of them, Bucky butted up against the redhead’s knees. And Thor is in front of Darcy’s legs, turned and having a rather loud argument with Barnes, about what, Darcy has no idea. Natasha and Clint are talking over them to Steve and it’s just all so loud. She doesn’t know what anyone is talking about and she doesn’t even think they know she’s in the fucking room.

Darcy counts to ten when she feels her heartbeat begin to speed up, grasping the pillow to her middle tighter in an effort to remain calm. It doesn’t work. When Clint leans over Natasha to grab the remote out of Steve’s hand, inadvertently causing Thor to scoot back and jostling her in the process, she has had _enough_. Shoving at Thor’s massive shoulder, Darcy heaves to her feet wincing as the movement pulls at her stomach. She stumbles over the man and nearly trips over Bucky’s outstretched legs, her pillow going flying. Barnes jumps to his feet with lightning fast agility and steadies her but she just shakes him off.

The room goes immediately silent and Darcy explodes.

“That is IT! I am done. I can’t do it anymore. I know you’re trying to show you care and I get it, I really do. I’m grateful, I am. And I _know_ you mean well but I can’t do this anymore! I don’t need fucking babysitters. I’m alive, I am FINE. But I can’t _breathe_. So I’m done. If I need you, I’ll call you.”

Darcy sucks in a breath and with shaking hands she moves around the people that clutter her living room, their expressions ranging from utterly shocked (Steve), confused (Thor), and knowing (Natasha). They remain silent and unmoving as she slips into her bedroom long enough to pull on Barnes’ worn hoodie, toss her laptop, and phone, chargers, and a blanket into a bag, plus her pocketbook. She grabs her other pillow off her bed along with Henry, hefting her bag onto her left shoulder and backs out into the quiet living room.

She avoids everyone’s eyes and says nothing as she strides purposefully to her own door. Opening it she only pauses for a second and says “Minnie, come on.” waiting until she feels a nudge against her hip to step out into the hall. With the bot on her heels, Darcy leaves her stunned friends behind and makes her way to the elevator in her socks. If they watch her, she doesn’t know because she doesn’t look back.

Once in the lift she slumps against the wall and fights back a wave of panic because ‘ _Oh my, God. I am a petulant child. I am an actual toddler throwing a fit just because it’s tired.’_

“Where to Miss. Darcy?”

She startles at the voice and the question. Where did she think she was going anyway, really? She didn’t even have any fucking shoes on! All her friends were in her apartment probably discussing when they’d have her committed. At a nudge to her thigh, Darcy glances down and she knows exactly where she’s going.

“Is Stark in his shop, J?”

“At the moment, yes.”

“Has he asked that he not be disturbed?”

“As usual, yes, Miss. Darcy.”

“Take me to him anyway?”

“As you wish.”

Jarvis’ Princess Bride quote is enough to make Darcy smile just a little as the floors tick down towards Tony’s lab. Less than a minute later the doors open and Darcy is greeted by the strains of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Dazed and Confused’ and she thinks ‘ _How funny.’_ Darcy trails behind Minnie and the door to Tony’s safe haven clicks open without her having to ask. The music is loud and she knows Jarvis didn’t warn the man that she was coming. That makes her just that much happier.

When her and her bot are completely inside, Darcy sets her bag down at her feet and stands taking in the line of Tony’s back. He’s bent over the table, jeans slung low on his hips, the waistband of his underwear just beginning to peek from under them. There’s grease on the back of one thigh and his arms are showcased in the light he’s using as he wrenches something into or out of place. His navy blue wife-beater is stained with grease and sweat and his hair looks like he’s ran his dirty hands through it too many times to count.

Darcy thinks he’s the best fucking thing she’s seen in _days_.

Jarvis turns the music down, she supposes as her introduction and Tony stops whatever he’s doing as soon as Robert Plant’s crooning quiets.

“Seriously, J, not funny, I was in the zone, honey!”

Before Jarvis can reply, Darcy clears her throat and watches as his spine straightens, there’s a _thump_ like he’s dropped something, and he slowly turns to glance at her over his shoulder.

“You running away, Dorothy? In socks? That’s not very safe.”

“I had a disagreement with Auntie Em and the others. Figured where better to hide out than with the Tin Man.”

He tosses a wrench to the table and turns around, resting his hips back against the table and crossing his arms over his chest. Darcy wants to cry. So pretty. So, so, so fucking hot and nope, not mine. _Stop it._ She meets his gaze head on and shrugs. Tony rakes his eyes over her figure from sock encased feet to the messy bun on the top of her head. She uses what energy she has left to stay still under his gaze. She watches as his eyes flick down to Minnie and she sees the tiny lift to the corner of his mouth before it disappears. That gives her the courage to speak.

“I don’t care that you’ve been successfully avoiding me, Stark. I don’t even give a damn what the reason was. I really don’t care about anything right now. So go back to whatever it is you’re tinkering with, Tinkerbell and let me hide out here, okay? Good. Jarvis, turn the music back on now, please.”

“Right away, Miss. Darcy.”

Darcy makes a ‘Go on’ motion with her hand at Tony where he’s staring at her like she just grew three extra heads before tapping Minnie on the top of her claw so the bot will follow her to the back of the shop. Picking up her bag again, she readjusts her pillow and Henry and makes her way around the random junk in the middle of Stark’s floor and towards the comfortable, slouchy couch that’s definitely seen better days.

Easing down onto the couch she ignores the gaze she can feel on her and arranges her pillow and blanket before pulling her laptop out to boot it up. ‘When the Levee Breaks’ fills the shop at a comfortable level (thank you, Jarvis) and Darcy gets comfy. She hears a huff and when she chances a look at Tony he’s turned back to his work and mumbling to himself. She can’t help but smile.

She’s found her sanctuary.

 

* * *      * * *

 

He’d snuck the robot into her apartment and watched when she read the card. He’d grinned so hard his face almost broke. He’d watched for nearly a week, just occasionally checking in on her, and saw her cuddling with his teammates, throwing things at Clint when he talked bad about her shows or disagreed with her, listened to her try to talk Barnes into letting her paint his nails. Steve even laughed at that one. And yet, Tony had stayed away. He was so damn proud of himself.

He’d even gone as far as to avoid Natasha, which was no easy feat. But he’d managed it and was relieved when he didn’t have to sit through another one of her lectures and almost get slaughtered for back-talking. It was all great, but he missed Darcy. Dammit. What was wrong with him? He should in no way shape or form be so over the damn moon over this woman. He couldn’t understand it. But he’d pressed on and dove into work. It was all going so swimmingly…

And then she’d shown up in his shop.

He swears that she’s taking lessons from Natasha because he didn’t even notice her. And Jarvis, the bastard hadn’t warned him and had just let her walk right in like she owned the place. Tony was so confused. He’d been a good boy, hadn’t even had a drink in about thirty some hours, but nope, apparently that wasn’t good _enough_ , because he’d turned around and nearly smashed his finger at her sudden appearance. Son of a bitch.

At least his snark still worked. And so did hers, it made his heart grow a couple sizes. He’s the fucking Grinch now. Awesome.

Tony had tried intimidation, his smolder on full throttle and she’d shot him down like he was a drunk frat guy. Since when did that happen? He was always good at getting her riled up but she had turned the tables on him. She’d called him _Tinkerbell_. Seriously? She’d clearly spent too much time around Barton and Barnes. That was all. He’d only let her stay because she did look tired and he was a nice guy.

And he was selfish.

He wanted to hide her away from the others and do… _things_ with her, to her. Fuck, he was supposed to be Iron Man and yet here’s this chick pretty much taking the reins from him and leaving him to follow behind like a good little bot. Shit, Darcy was turning into Pepper. The world was on the verge of ending. He smells an apocalypse.

He had let her stay and he was going to lose it, he could just feel it. Because with her in his space, his head was already an erratic, riddled thing and it hadn’t been more than ten minutes. So yeah, he was just going to…… was she singing?! What? No. There was no singing in his shop! Christ, he needs a drink. He realizes that he’s mumbling under his breath but at least she can’t hear him over the music.

Two hours later, Tony looks up from his table after having almost completed fixing a glitch he’d found in his newest suit and glances over to his couch. Led Zeppelin’s ‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’ is weaving through the room like smoke and Darcy is stretched out on her left side, curls now loose and hanging over the side of the couch where they’re scattered across her pillow. She’s got a teddy bear held to her chest and her bot is sitting sentry at the opposite end of the couch, her glasses discarded on top of her closed laptop. She’s sound asleep.

Tony doesn’t even hesitate as he pads over on silent feet and holds a finger up to his lips when her metal guard dog perks up. He tugs her blanket up around her shoulders a little higher and ghosts his knuckles over the arch of her cheekbone. He freezes when she hums in her sleep and seems to lean into the barely there touch; only moving back when she stills again. With a hushed request he brings a hand up to scratch at his jaw.

“J, turn it down to six and dim the lights.”

The AI does as instructed instead of replying and Tony watches Darcy breathe for a moment more before he returns to his station. He doesn’t sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note: I have this entire thing outlined so I know exactly where it's going. I just like to write as I go instead of OD'ing on it all at once and getting sick of it. So, thank you, thank you, thank you for being patient with me!


	12. Hug, hug, run!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugs are had, food is eaten, and other things, something of cabbages and kings.

That Sunday morning Darcy wakes up to a quiet shop and Stark is no where to be found. After pushing her glasses on and folding up her blanket, she checks her phone. There are three missed calls and six unread text messages. The first two calls are from Steve, and the third one is from Jane. The texts read as follows (and in order):

-‘ _Did you seriously just storm out in your damn socks, Lewis?’_ (Barton)

-‘ _I think you broke Stevie, Doll. Answer the phone.’_ (Barnes)

_-‘Jarvis won’t tell us where you are, you better still be in this building, Darcy!’_ (Jane)

_-‘Come back, we’re sorry. Seriously. Thor is POUTING, Darcy!’_  (Jane, again)

_-‘You’re making Barnes twitchy, Darce. Please come back.’_ (Barton, again)

_-‘I’ll handle them. Your apartment will be clear in the morning. Makes sure Stark feeds you. ;) And don’t forget your checkup with Banner is Tuesday at 11.’_ (Natasha)

Darcy cards a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers catch in a tangle but she can’t quite stop the smile that tugs at her lips after reading Nat’s text. That woman was just too intuitive. Darcy opts to send out a group message that reads; ‘ _I’m fine and still in the tower. So quit worrying. And, I’m sorry for blowing up at you all. I owe you cookies.’_ She debates sending a solo one to Natasha and figures it won’t hurt since it appeared that she already knew some of what Darcy was so valiantly trying to hide. Hers simply states; ‘ _You’re my favorite.’_

Braiding her hair over her shoulder loosely, Darcy then tidies up her corner of Tony’s shop, piling her stuff up in the corner of the couch and getting to her feet. She pats Minnie’s arm before slipping out into the hallway. The elevator takes her back up to her floor and she’s a little wary when the doors slide open. Peeking her head out, she prays the coast is really clear then makes a run (fast walk because _ouch_ ) to her door. Jarvis kindly opens the door for her and she steps inside surveying the damage. But there’s nothing to be seen because her apartment is spotless, table back in its place, pillows on the couch in perfect alignment, nothing out of place. She breathes easily, not sure what she’d expected.

Moving into her room, she grabs clean clothes, tossing her phone onto the bed on her way into the bathroom. The shower is as hot as she can stand it and she lets the water beat away the tension in her shoulders. But she can’t ignore the tears that slip from her eyes when images flash behind her closed lids like a game of Memory. A palm sliding down the length of her spine as her forehead presses into the wet tiles, water pouring over them and making everything slippery. Tile beneath her knees and water on her lashes as she blinked up into a wrecked face, the sounds of shared laughs and long moans; it all haunts her. Drawing in an unsteady breath, Darcy tilts her face up into the spray of the shower letting the pelting water wash away her longing and finishes her shower with a hollow feeling.

Spending time near Tony the night before only poured salt into her open wound. She craved his nearness and she can’t grasp the how or why everything changed so quickly. Darcy had been fine before getting shot, she’d been content to flirt with Tony and have it go nowhere. But her foray into the dream world had turned it all upside down on its head and she felt like she didn’t have the strength to right it again. Did that mean she wasn’t going to seek Stark out again? Hell no. If you wanted to label her a masochist, then go ahead because she wasn’t going to do without him again. Not if she could help it.

Once she’s dressed and her hair is dried she puts a little mascara on, the need to look less like a zombie at the forefront of her mind. She takes her meds and grabs some of the paper work she still has yet to do, and then she’s out the door feeling a little better since she has a destination in mind.

“J, are Steve and Barnes in today?”

“They are currently in the communal kitchen with Agent Barton, Miss Darcy.”

“Three for one, alright, beam me up, J-Man.”

Darcy snickers when instead of responding to her request she hears what sounds like bad sound effects straight out of a seventies movie and the elevator sets into motion. She really loves it here. It’s rather comical when she exits the elevator and makes her way down the short hall to the kitchen and the three men freeze upon seeing her like they’re playing Red Light, Green Light.

“Green light!” Darcy says and pokes Clint in the stomach on her way to one of the stools where Steve sits at the island. She eases up onto the one next to him and rests her arms on the counter, glancing around the room and weighing her words before speaking. Barnes crosses his arms over his chest where he stands leaning against the fridge, Steve stares at her with concern and curiosity lacing his gaze, and Clint leans on the counter across from them staring down at the surface like it’s going to tell him the winning numbers to the lottery.

“Sooo…” Darcy drawls the word out and looks over her shoulder catching Bucky’s gaze before she continues. “I shouldn’t have blown up at ya’ll last night and this is me apologizing. I’m sorry that I made it seem like you were doing more harm than good. I don’t have a good excuse why I did that, but I’m sorry.” She nods for punctuation and drops her gaze down to her arms.

“We accept, but only if you really meant it about the cookies…”

Darcy’s head pops up and she smiles at Barton’s twinkling eyes.

“I did and I will make them before my two weeks are up.”

Arms wrap around her from behind and Barnes rests his chin on her shoulder as Steve reaches for her nearest hand. Darcy has to swallow back a swell of emotion and she blinks rapidly to clear her watery eyes. Did she mention she loves it here, because she really does.

“Next time we’re getting on your nerves just tell us, okay? We don’t mean to hover, and I think I speak for us all when I say that we’re just glad that you’re alright.”

“The Cap is right, Darce, we were just on high alert. Forgive _us_?”

Darcy nods at Clint and leans back against Bucky with a sigh as she squeezes Steve’s hand. She doesn’t know how in the hell she ended up here with these amazing people, but she’s so freaking grateful.

“Consider it forgotten. Now, who’s gonna get me some coffee? Because I haven’t had any yet and I’m jonesing.”

Bucky presses a chaste kiss to her temple and releases her with an “Aye, Aye.” Steve replaces Barnes and wraps her up in an oh-so warm hug and she can’t help but to sigh and snuggle into his chest. He pulls back after a moment and gives her his best smile before releasing her. She has two cups of coffee and listens to them talk, content to add her opinions here and there but otherwise just _be_. Clint offers to walk her down to Jane’s lab once he finds out where she’s going and she agrees. While she runs to the bathroom, Bucky makes her a mug of coffee to go and five minutes later she’s off with Barton.

She spends a couple hours bugging Jane and making Thor laugh to make up for her behavior and now that she’s managed to occupy her mind the hollowness she felt that morning is muted. When Jane shoos her out of her lab, Darcy, munching on a pop tart ventures down to Hill’s office. She settles into one of the chairs across from the woman’s desk and Maria is happy to shirk her SI duties to entertain Darcy. Since Hill had joined Stark’s company, Darcy had made it her mission to keep her up to speed with most of the gossip around the tower. They’d become fast friends and usually had drinks with Jane, Natasha, and sometimes Pepper on Fridays to wind down. It was nice to have girl friends when you lived in a tower full of testosterone.

When dinner time rolls around, Darcy is shocked to find she’s wasted an entire day. She sends Hill off with a promise of drinks as soon as she’s able and calls in Chinese takeout, waiting downstairs in the lobby for it to get there. Once the food arrives she takes it directly to Tony’s shop knowing he’s probably not eaten anything that day anyway. When she walks in she’s greeted by Minnie immediately and she juggles the bags just to pet the bot.

“I smell food, Jarvis when did you start cooking?”

“Sorry, Sir, that’s Miss Darcy with takeout. I do not yet have the ability to produce sustenance out of thin air.”

Tony spins around in his chair and his eyes flit from Darcy to the greasy bags in her arms.

“Veggie eggrolls?”

“And sesame chicken.”

“Come to daddy.”

“That’s not creepy at all.” Darcy grins when he huffs out a laugh and she moves over to the couch but stops once she gets there, searching the space for her stuff.

“Uh, Stark, where’s all my stuff?”

“Oh! That, I took it up to the penthouse. If you’re going to hide out you’re not sleeping on a ratty couch that I’ve had since college. I have a guest room, with your stuff in it now. Anyway, that’s an excellent idea, let’s go.”

Darcy’s brows nearly meet her hairline as she stares dumbfounded at the man as he closes down specs and screens and turns to the door.

“You want me to stay in your penthouse? With _you_?”

“I’m not the big bad wolf, Shortstack. I promise not to eat you. Now come on before the food gets cold, I’m hungry.”

She blinks a couple times and swallows thickly as possibilities and that pesky little thing called hope makes a tantalizing cocktail out of her thoughts. She stands there rooted to the spot for a long moment before she has to will her feet to move and follow behind Tony who was already half way down the hall to the elevator.

They eat at on his coffee table, Darcy propped up with pillows in the center of his couch and him in the floor by her feet while watching an episode of Doctor Who with the new Doctor. They argue about the episode and banter back and forth barely paying attention to much else, like how he’s moved from the floor onto the couch and they’re settled in together too close to be just ‘friendly’ and comfortable. Darcy steals his beer and he throws a fortune cookie into her lap. She finishes off his drink before cracking the cookie and leaning away from him to read it, she nearly chokes on the last swig of beer at the words peering up at her.

‘ _You are the guiding star of his existence.’_

She shoves the fortune into her pocket and ignores his curious gaze, vowing to burn the stupid damning piece of paper later. They both agree after that that neither of them like this new Doctor yet and they switch back to Ten’s era. She dozes off two episodes later with her head on Tony’s shoulder and her hand resting innocently just above his knee on his thigh.

 

* * *      * * *

 

Tony can’t help but smile as he shakes Darcy awake long enough to get her to take her glasses off and leads her to the bedroom across from his. He makes sure she’s settled in before backing out of the room and pulling the door quietly to. When he’d woken up that morning he had no intentions of practically moving Darcy in with him but after he’d poked Bruce, grabbed his coffee and trekked down to his shop and noticed her things still there… Well, he’d had a light bulb moment. If she was going to hide out from the others (yes, he may have gotten Jarvis to play back the little incident that caused her to seek him out, but really can you blame him?) he didn’t think it was all that convenient for her to be sleeping on his couch. So he’d toted her bags up to his space and aired out the rarely ever used guest room.

He knew she’d come looking for her stuff eventually but what he hadn’t expected her to do was bring food with her. It didn’t slip his notice that he’d caught her off guard with the whole idea of her staying with him and he felt smug. It was about time he wasn’t the only one blindsided by the… whatever this thing was they had between them. Tony was used to camping out on couches and eating with Darcy, that was nothing new, and okay, the cuddling wasn’t all that new either but tonight it had felt _new_. He couldn’t label it, and didn’t want to, to be honest.

That night when Tony goes to bed he feels lighter than he has in a long time, his stomach warm with the knowledge that Darcy is nearby.

 

*

 

Monday is just another day but this one’s different. There’s a sleepy Darcy leaning against his counter when he emerges from his bedroom. She’s wearing the same thing she fell asleep in the night before and her hair is piled loosely on top of her head. She stares unseeingly at his coffee maker and he wonders if she turned it on or is just contemplating going back to bed. He’d like to take her back to bed…

“If you turn it on it’ll make this black stuff that’ll put hair on your chest.”

Darcy jumps, startled by the sound of his voice and she pushes off the counter to turn and glare at him. He’s a little poleaxed by the way the morning light is backlighting her and giving her an ethereal beauty. Tony has to mentally force himself not to step into her personal space and lay claim to what he wants. Jesus, it’s too early for this.

The coffee maker takes that moment to come to life and he offers her a sheepish smile and a shrug then moves around her to the cabinet. He tries really hard not to imagine his mornings with her, sharing coffee and pop tarts, slow kisses, showers. Okay, seriously he needs to get away from this adorable and soft version of Darcy before he does something stupid. After breakfast, he bids her farewell and tells her she’s welcome to stay if she wants, then he gets out of there and books it down to his shop.

Tony spends the day working on a suit, bothering Pepper, cancelling meetings that he doesn’t want to go to, and thinking about Darcy. So really it’s just another normal day. That is until his stomach won’t stop growling and he gives in and calls it quits, heading back up to his penthouse. If it’s earlier than he’d normally quit, well, fuck you he doesn’t care. When he strolls into his living room he finds Darcy in the middle of his couch again, a hurricane of papers surrounding her and her laptop balanced on a thigh. She has her ear buds in and is humming along to whatever’s playing.

And, _‘oh, shit’_ he thinks because last time he’d seen her iPod was when she was in the hospital and he’d brought it home and laid it down somewhere. He pads over to peer over her shoulder at what she’s working on and barely catches a glimpse of something about floor plans before she snaps her laptop closed and glares at him. Yanking the buds from her ears she gathers up her papers as he straightens.

“You planning on building something?”

“Don’t be stupid, I was just being bored. I’m hungry, are you hungry? How about pizza tonight?”

Tony doesn’t miss the way she avoids meeting his gaze and changes the subject, he makes a mental note to ask Jarvis what’s going on later.

“Sure, sounds good. Supernatural tonight?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Forty five minutes later finds them in much the same position they were in the previous night but this time with a pizza box taking up the coffee table. Darcy keeps thwacking him in the arm every time Dean says something stupid and he can’t help but to laugh at her enthusiasm. They take a bathroom break between episodes and when they get back, Darcy looks at Tony and just smiles. He arches a brow at her in suspicion.

“What? Do I have sauce on my face?”

“No, I just never got to thank you for Minnie.”

“Who’s Minnie?”

“My bot!"

“Noooo, Darcy you did not name something I created after a mouse!”

He watches as she collapses into a helpless pile of laughter and he glares playfully at her, reaching out to thunk her gently in the forehead with the heel of his hand.

“I can’t believe you. I’m not making another so you can name it Mickey, so don’t even ask.”

“Aw, come on that’d be so cute! The Iron Man maroon bow was a nice touch, by the way.”

Tony just grins at her and presses play on the next episode and before he even realizes what he’s doing he drapes his arm over her shoulders and tugs her into his right side. If she snuggles in with a bit of a surprised expression, he pretends he doesn’t notice it. She relaxes against him and he finds himself wishing that he could just kiss her. He feels like a teen at his first movie with a girl all over again.

Soon he stops paying attention to the TV altogether in favor of watching Darcy. The way she flinches when the brothers yell at each other, the way she smiles when Dean calls Sam by a nickname, and the way she picks at the tiny hole in the thigh of her sweats. God, he wants her and he suddenly doesn’t care if he’s in too far or what the risk is. He’s known for doing first and thinking later and so he just _acts_.

She must catch him staring because she pulls away a little, just enough to angle towards him so she can see his face in the flickering light from the screen. Darcy raises a brow and opens her mouth to speak and Tony moves. He leans in, telegraphing his moves with a hand sliding up her arm and skipping up to cradle her cheek, giving her time to pull away if she chooses to.

She doesn’t.

The first press of his lips against hers is nothing more than that, just a ghost of a kiss. The second is more defined, filled with intention and he can’t tell exactly _whose_. Her breath is warm and she’s leaning into him like she wants more and he is utterly _fucked._ Tony whispers her name against her lips and it’s as if something snaps. Her left arm links around his neck and tugs him that much closer and she blesses his mouth with tokens of desire, he knows that’s what they are because he _wants,_ too. Her tongue sweeps into his mouth and he can’t contain the low groan at her boldness. She tastes like pizza and his favorite beer and home. He doesn’t think he’ll ever want to stop kissing her.

They go from kissing lazily to Darcy lying on her back and Tony’s hands itching to explore, their mouths too busy to voice what they want. There seems to be a mutual agreement that they’re okay with this, though, an unspoken thing that makes Tony nearly giddy that she wants what he does. But apparently he isn’t allowed to have nice things.

His fingers edge under her shirt and come into contact with bare flesh causing her to shiver and him to nip at her plush bottom lip. But before it goes any further Darcy sucks in a breath, breaking their kiss and grabs his wrist halting his wandering hand. He pulls back and stares down at her in confusion.

“Watch the stitches, it’d be kinda embarrassing if I had to get Bruce out of bed to patch me up.”

Everything in Tony screeches to a halt. He’d gotten so caught up in his own need that he’d completely forgotten why Darcy was even there in the first place. He stares down at her with wide and shamed eyes before leveling himself up and off of her. Panic is a shitty thing, really. Sitting on the edge of the couch, he drags hands through his hair and listens to her sit up and right her clothes. He feels like the biggest ass and kind of wants to flee at the moment. So he does, he takes his panic and his shame and he makes for the boarder.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… do, _that_. It’s late and you’re right. Don’t want to have to wake anyone up. I think I’m going to hit the hay. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah? Okay, then. Night, Lewis.”

It shames him to say that he leaves her sitting on his couch, her hair mussed from his hands and looking absolutely bewildered.

He doesn’t see her the next morning. In fact he won’t see her in person for another six mornings…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN! Dramatic pause for the cliffhanger. To be continued.


	13. Cigarette flavored remorse.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has a checkup and also a reality check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a caution that there's a trigger-y panic attack in this one.

Darcy doesn’t stay in the penthouse that night. After Tony disappears into his bedroom, she sits there for a moment trying to figure out what in the hell just happened. She can’t fathom what on earth had gotten into the man. He’d shocked the hell out of her by kissing her and then he’d just _ran_. And here she thought her panic induced freak outs were impressive.

Once she’d been able to shake off her confusion and will her body into motion, she’d gathered up her things from the guest room and let herself quietly out. That night she spent the biggest part of her time lying on her back and staring at her own ceiling instead of sleeping. When her alarm on her phone had woken her up she was pretty sure she’d only just closed her eyes. Running late, Darcy took a quick shower and not bothering with more makeup than the bare essentials, she was out the door and headed to see Bruce. He greeted her with a smile and dismissed her apologies for being late as she climbed up onto the exam table. She was so glad that Bruce was the one taking care of her recovery because she highly doubts that she’d be a very good patient today.

He’s quiet and methodical as he checks her healing wound and her vitals, only speaking to ask her about her meds and so forth. Had Darcy been a little more perceptive and not still trying to figure out why Tony Stark was such an asshole, she would have picked up on how Bruce kept eyeing her as if he was looking for her to start screaming or something. When he has to ask her the same question twice before she responds, he rolls a chair over, a clipboard on his lap and gives her his ‘it’s talk time’ head tilt.

“Have you not been sleeping well?”

“I’ve been sleeping too much if you ask me.” She snorts and tips a shoulder up to her ear in a shrug.

“What about dreams? Have you been having vivid dreams or anything like that, that you can’t seem to wake yourself up from?”

Darcy’s eyes widen and she pauses, the response she’d had dying on her tongue, and it’s just enough for him to hum knowingly and glance down at whatever was on his clipboard.

“Um.. Why would that matter? Are the antibiotics making me hallucinate or something?” her voice rises just a bit, panic slowly beginning to crawl up her spine.

“Not exactly… I’ve been researching it with a little help from Thor because I’m not really in the know about alien bacteria, but well, you _have_ been having seemingly realistic dreams, I’m assuming?”

Her heart is starting to gallop in her chest and all she can do is stare at the scientist/doctor and nod.

“Right, so the weapons that were used that day resembled Loki’s staff… And we know the Tesseract isn’t exactly a living thing, but many alien races, according to Thor, have the ability to create weapons that not only are harmful when fired or used with blunt force, but they can also release living cultures into a living system. When you were in the hospital, we took blood samples. There was an abnormality, but seeing as how you lost so much blood we don’t think there was enough traces of whatever entered your bloodstream left to be harmful. When you were shot, the, call it a plasma ray or energy stream from the weapon released a toxin or a parasite of some kind. Now, had you not lost so much blood, we suspect that whatever that toxin was designed to do it would have latched onto your cells like a cancer and you would have died…”

She can’t breathe and there are suddenly black spots in her vision. Darcy doesn’t realize she’s not breathing, panic having sunk its claws into her chest, until she feels an arm wrap awkwardly around her, but not even Banner’s soothing voice can calm her budding hysteria. She should have fucking died either way you look at it. And now she finds out that she’s _unclean_ with some alien shit swimming happily around in her veins. And they’d known for over a week and hadn’t told her. Hadn’t thought it was important enough?

Darcy tries to pull in a breath but it gets stuck in her throat and she knows she’s the one making that wheezing sound and she can’t stop. Squeezing her eyes shut as tight as she can, she attempts to curl into a ball but she’s still on the exam table and can’t, she can’t make herself small. The pain doesn’t even register as she jerks away from Bruce climbing down and crumbling to the floor. Her head is a mess and she just wants die. She sincerely wishes that they would have just let her die. She doesn’t want to know superheroes anymore, she doesn’t want to love Tony, and Darcy wants to go back to her dream world where there were no life threatening aliens and their creepy bio-altering weapons.

Strong arms grab her up and tighten around her just this side of too much and a low crooning voice whispers into her ear, instructing her on how to breath. She sobs at the massive pressure in her chest and the buzzing in her head, but she listens. Not sure how long she sits there falling apart and unable to stop the heaving cries that continue, Darcy concentrates on the voice and soon she’s able to pull in small shaking breaths. She doesn’t open her eyes just yet but she manages to dig her nails into warm slick flesh, using that as an anchor.

“Come on, baby, open those eyes for me. It’s alright, I promise. You’re okay, you’re perfectly safe.”

Slowly Darcy lets her lids open and she has to blink through the tears that still fall. She buries her face against Clint’s sweaty neck not ready to face anything more. His arms remain wrapped around her and she thinks it’s holding her together. Once she can breathe again, she releases her grip on his arm with a small apology and he simply shrugs. Banner looks worriedly down at her from his chair and she suddenly feels horrible. Her voice is a trembling croak when she speaks.

“Bruce, I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out on you.”

“No, it’s okay. I should have asked if you were ready to discuss it first, so it’s my fault really.”

“Wait, discuss what?” It sounds to Darcy that Clint is all business and in that moment he isn’t gonna take any shit even from the Hulk.

“That’s confidential…”

“No, it’s okay. You… go ahead and tell him.”

Darcy sits there in the floor with Barton holding her as Banner explains to the archer what he’d told Darcy. She feels his frame tense with each word that comes out of the doctor’s mouth and she idly wonders if he’d ever gotten over the thing with Loki. Hell, if she just had a panic attack over what happened to her (and didn’t even kill anyone) she can only imagine what he’d gone through. They eventually pull her into the conversation and Bruce explains that her antibiotics have been working to rid her of the toxins and he needs to draw blood to make sure they’re working.

Clint doesn’t leave her side the entire time. Darcy notes that he has his gym clothes on and that explains why he’d been so sweaty, apparently Bruce had gotten Jarvis to call whoever was closest and he’d came straight from the gym. She can’t quit thanking him and apologizing to the both of them; he threatens to duct-tape her mouth shut if she does it one more time. After Bruce takes her blood with a promise to let her know the results, Barton follows her back up to her apartment. She makes them lunch and they eat in companionable silence. When they’re done eating, he makes to leave but stops at the door and calls out to her where she’d been putting stuff up in the kitchen.

“I won’t if you say you’re okay, but do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

She turns around slowly and meets his gaze. Darcy wants nothing more than to go back up to Tony’s penthouse and pretend like the kiss they shared never happened so they could go back to cuddling and watching TV, but she can’t. So she says yes and tells Clint he can come back. He leaves with a smile.

Darcy waits an hour before she digs around in the back of her closet looking for an old purse. She winces as she stretches a little too far but comes up victorious, the ugly pocketbook dangling from her fingers. Dumping it onto her bed she picks up a pack of half-empty cigarettes that she’d stashed away just for this occasion. She pulls on Barnes’ hoodie even though it’s probably hot outside, she doesn’t know because she hasn’t been outside in days, pockets her cigarettes and lighter and slips her flip flops back on. Patting her pockets she makes sure she has her phone and leaves, making her way into the elevator.

“Where to Miss?”

“To the stars.”

Smiling just a titch at her and Jarvis’ Titanic reference, she leans a hip against the wall of the lift as it goes up, up, up to almost the top where there’s a hall that leads to a small balcony she’d found one day wandering around. When the doors slide open, she slips out and down the quiet corridor, pushing the door open and breathing the fresh air in deeply. Moving over into the corner, she pulls out a cigarette and lights it with familiar moves that stem from years of smoking back in her teen years. Drawing in that first drag of nicotine into her lungs is a heady thing, her lashes closing as she tilts her face up letting the sun warm her cheeks. The curl of the smoke in her lungs brings a sense of calm over her and as she exhales she opens her eyes watching the smoke scatter in the wind.

She’s working on her second cigarette when she hears the sound of the door behind her squeaking open. She doesn’t bother turning around, instead she asks, “How’d you find me? Did Jarvis tattle on me?”

“Doll, I’m a paranoid sniper and assassin, you think I haven’t checked out every inch of this building?”

“So Jarvis tattled on me, then.”

“Actually, Barton did.”

Darcy rolls her eyes and offers Barnes a cigarette. He surprises her and takes one. She hands over her lighter and she watches as he lights it like he’d been doing it for years. Darcy has the sudden urge to see him before the war, before all the bad things happened to him. He probably would have charmed her panties right off of her.

“So, he told you and Steve about my little break down, right?”

“Mhm...” he hums as he blows out a stream of smoke and she’s momentarily fascinated by the way he holds his cigarette and the purse of his lips. Steve is a freaking lucky man. Shaking her head to rattle loose those thoughts, she motions for him to continue and takes another drag as she watches him.

“If you want to, we want you to come eat with us tonight. Steve even said he’d cook.”

“What’s he cookin’?”

“What does he always cook?”

“Chicken casserole.”

“There ya go.” He leans against her shoulder where she’s leaned a little ways over the railing and they smoke in peace while she contemplates going or not. She knows if she goes that she’s going to end up explaining everything. And she’s kind of nervous about their reactions to their part of her story. On the other hand, if she doesn’t go Steve will more than likely find _her_ and either way she has a feeling that she’s going to end up spilling her guts whether she likes it or not. Stubbing out her embers, Darcy puts the butt in the ashtray she’d brought out here the last time she’d snuck up and turns to Bucky.

“Think he would care if I invited Barton and Nat?”

Shrugging, he follows her and stubs his cigarette out, smoke curling from behind his teeth as he speaks. “I don’t see why he would. You know he always cooks too much because of us anyway.”

Nodding, Darcy moves with Bucky back into the tower and into the elevator.

“Alright, I’ll be there around six, sevin-ish?”

“Sounds good. Just don’t back out.”

“I won’t.” He nods in response and tells Jarvis to drop him off on his and Steve’s floor and Darcy pulls her phone out sending a text to both Clint and Natasha asking them if they’ll come. She gets replies almost instantly and gives Bucky double thumbs up before he steps off the elevator giving her a crooked smirk and a mock salute.

Darcy goes back to her apartment and takes a long hot shower, attempting to keep her mind blank, free of aliens, health, and anyone with the last name Stark. She kinda succeeds and gets dressed in actual clothes instead of sweats, putting on a little makeup, and drying her hair, taming it into soft curls. She makes it to Steve and Bucky’s by fifteen till seven and finds Barton and Natasha already there. They pull her onto the couch between them and she isn’t really surprised when everyone ignores the topics that are on everyone’s minds.

They eat and laugh like normal people having dinner and it’s nice. Darcy finds herself actually relaxing a little and Barnes gives her a knowing wink. She pokes her tongue out at him and gets up to help Steve wash dishes much to his protests. Once they’re finished and everything has been put away he leads her into the living room. Clint pulls her down between him and the arm of the couch and she takes a deep resetting breath. They look at her expectantly and she can’t help but laugh a little.

“Darcy, you don’t have to tell us anything if it’s too uncomfortable for you.”

She glances at Steve and gives him a soft smile but shakes her head. “No, it’s okay, just kind of... hard. I mean, I know you have noticed I’ve been a little out of it since I woke up, and I just, I need to get this out.”

Natasha smiles at her and Darcy takes another deep breath and opens her mouth spilling everything. She starts with her embarrassing crush on Tony and leads up to her panic attack earlier that day. She answers their questions that range from if she knew it was a dream to if she’d actually tried to find the lake house when she’d woke up. She answers honestly and she’s exhausted by the time she finishes.

“So we had a kid. Wow… That’s just… Wow.” Steve alternates between staring dumbfounded at Darcy, curiously at Bucky, and contemplative at the floor. Barnes just gives him a ‘We’ll talk about this later’ look and sits back into the armchair with a sigh.

“I think you need a vacation, Doll. And I don’t mean just from work. You need to get out of New York for a day or three. Get a perspective on what you want to do.”

“He has a point.”

Both Steve and Clint glare at the other two but the idea takes root in Darcy’s gut and she nods.

“You’re right… I haven’t seen my parents in a while and I’ve still got till next Monday till I have to go back to work.”

“You could leave in the morning and be there tomorrow night. Leave Saturday and be back here late so you’ll have time to rest before work Monday.”

Darcy nods at Natasha and that makes up her mind. Steve and Bucky both give her bear hugs before she leaves and make her promise that she’ll let them know when she lands. She agrees and leaves with Nat and Clint. Getting into the elevator she leans into Nat’s side, resting her head on the woman’s shoulder. She thanks her for the idea and for being there tonight for moral support. The redhead just nods and drops a kiss on her head before stepping out onto her floor. She blows Barton a kiss and gives Darcy a wink before the doors slide closed again.

When they reach her apartment, Darcy excuses herself to go change and wash the makeup off her face while Clint grabs her laptop and makes himself at home. She comes back out in yoga pants and an AC/DC shirt with her hair piled carelessly onto the top of her head and settles in next him. He’s managed to book her a flight and she doesn’t even bothering asking him just how he knew where her family lives. It would be easier to take one of Stark’s private planes but she isn’t even going to go down that route. She’s going to go home and pretend that she’s just a normal girl.

They watch TV for a little while before Darcy’s exhaustion starts creeping up on her. Clint nudges her and pulls her to her feet, turning everything off and steering her to her bedroom. She makes him set an alarm so she’ll have time to pack and then she crawls into bed feeling like she’s been beaten. Barton doesn’t hesitate to pull her against his side and within minutes she’s sound asleep.

 

*

 

Wednesday morning brings cloudy and dreary skies that fit Darcy’s mood perfectly. Clint is up before she is and he makes her coffee and forces her to eat before she packs. Once they’re finished eating he leaves to go change and get his keys because he insists that he’s driving her to the airport. Darcy takes her meds before her shower and then packs with quiet melancholy music streaming from her laptop. She wants to say bye to Tony but she knows it would just bring up awkward questions that she doesn’t want to answer, so when her bags are packed she follows Clint silently to the elevator. But she can’t resist saying bye to at least one part of Stark.

“I’ll miss you J-Man.”

“And I will miss you as well, Miss Darcy. Please do come back soon.”

“You can count on it.”

“Have a good day, Miss, Agent Barton.”

Clint nods at the ceiling and grabs the handle of Darcy’s rolling bag as the doors slide open to the back garage that she’d come home to just over a week ago. She lets him lead her out and her heart sinks the further away she gets from Tony. As they pull out and into the flow of traffic, Darcy can’t help but glance back up at the tower with a hollow heart. She doesn’t let herself cry, though.

The ride to the airport is quiet and Barton keeps giving her glances like he wants to just kidnap her instead of letting her out of the car. She turns the radio on and does a good job of bugging him by switching the channel every few minutes when a crappy song comes on. He knows what she’s doing but he doesn’t say anything. When he pulls up the curb, he gets out and gets her bag out of the trunk for her and stands there just staring at her intently. She hefts her carry-on bag up on her uninjured side and attempts to give him a bright smile. He laughs at her and shakes his head before skirting around her bag and wrapping her up in a tight hug.

“You call me if you need anything, alright? I’ll steal one of Stark’s jets and come get you.”

If her laughter is a little watery he doesn’t comment. Darcy has to swallow the lump in her throat before she can speak.

“Will you keep an eye on him for me?” she knows she doesn’t have to say who she’s talking about for Clint to know. “Just… make sure he doesn’t do anything _too_ stupid while I’m gone, okay? Please. I’ll bake you all the cookies when I get back, I promise.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I think I can handle it. But if he has a black eye and a split lip come Sunday, don’t say I didn’t try.”

Darcy laughs a little louder and squeezes her arms tighter around the archer. She’s a little reluctant to let him go but she makes herself take a step back and grabs her bag’s handle, offering him a damp smile. He grins at her and dismisses her with a wave of his hand and a playful, “Go on, get out of here, kid.” She flips him off and walks away before she’s tempted to get him to take her back to Stark.

When her bag is checked and she’s settling into her window seat (in first class, damn you, Barton), her ear buds in and music playing over the sounds of the other passengers and the engines, only then does Darcy breathe freely. And she cries. Watching New York disappear below the clouds makes her feel like she’s free falling all over again, but this time she’s not dying. She’s just losing something she’s not even sure she had to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't an easy decision to have Darcy leave, but I promise we're in the home stretch and everything is falling into place.


	14. Jack plus assassins do not a happy Stark make.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a couple of come to Jesus moments and also there's a surprise POV...

Tony doesn’t even realize that Darcy is gone (let alone out of the _state_ ) until Thursday morning (just after noon so kinda morning? It’s morning to him). After his small, it was very small, (Seriously. At least that’s what he’s telling himself) freak out and less than graceful exit from his living room, he’d woken up that Tuesday and was greeted by a silent penthouse. He’d gone and pushed the guest room’s door open and found it empty. Darcy had taken all of her things and it was like she’d never been there. It made his chest ache.

Alcohol was his friend after that, lots of alcohol and metal; it seemed to be a reoccurring theme in his life. Tony didn’t resurface until Thursday and fumbled his way out of his shop and up to the communal kitchen. Walking into the room (more like stumbling) he’d offered a wasted smile to Barton, Natasha, Cap and the Terminator then attempted to make himself something to eat. It hadn’t gone so well…

“I would ask if you’re drunk but the stench of whiskey seeping from your pores is an answer in itself.”

“Ah, yes, Jack and I have gotten reacquainted. He’s a fantastic dancer.”

“Stark, step away from the stove.”

“What? Why? You think just because I have chefs on hand that I don’t know how to cook? Seriously, Cap I am more than capable of making myself a damn omelet!”

“Jesus, man you need to sober up, MOVE!”

“What’s that smell? Barton, get your hands off me, I’ll kick your feathery—WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Get off me, Nat you’re really beginning to pissing me off. I’m calling my lawyer!”

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to let you go then you and I are going to take a walk and get you sobered up. Ah, ah, no arguments, Tony. Now shake your head and say ‘Yes, Natasha, I understand.”

“Whatever just let me go.”

She didn’t let him go, in fact she made a show of manhandling him from the kitchen and into the hall. His last glance of the kitchen was a frowning Steve tossing a scorched dishtowel into the sink and Barton tossing his blackened breakfast into the trash. Barnes just glared at him and Tony almost flipped him off but he didn’t particularly _want_ to die that day.

“Well, that escalated rather quickly.”

“What the hell are you doing, Tony?”

He opens his mouth to reply with a terribly witty comeback but the glare that she shoots him is enough to make his mouth snap shut. The elevator ride is a quiet one and he crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child and stares a hole in the floor. His head and heart are pounding in sync and it’s making him nauseous, ugh, this sucks. He sometimes forgets that his body isn’t twenty anymore and doesn’t really _like_ being drowned in alcohol.

Natasha takes him up to his penthouse and he scowls at her because he hadn’t been here since seeing that Darcy’d left, instead opting to stay in his shop. And technically that sucked just as well because her _stupid_ bot wouldn’t leave him alone. Seriously, who names a robot after a damn mouse anyway? Huffing out a breath, he avoids the couch and plops down gracelessly into an armchair while watching his teammate disappear into his kitchen. Tony closes his eyes for a second and lets his head fall back against the cushions.

He jerks awake thirty minutes later when Natasha kicks him in the shin and he has to rub his eyes to make sure he’s not hallucinating. She rolls her eyes at him, hands him a plate with a perfectly made omelet and toast before sitting down a cup of coffee on the end table next to his arm, then she elegantly settles onto the couch turned and facing him.

“Eat before it gets cold. And drink your coffee.”

“Is this my last meal? Are you going to execute me after I’m finished with my coffee?”

“Stark…”

“Eating…” he grumbles and complies.

Tony is a little shocked that the food is good, either that or he just hasn’t eaten in a while, he really doesn’t remember. Finishing it in record timing, he trades out his empty plate for his coffee and tries to ignore the assassin’s stare, but it proves to be impossible so he’s the first one to break the silence.

“Sooo… I’m assuming that Darcy told you what happened the other night?” Natasha only nods. “She doesn’t like me very much right now does she?” He takes a sip of his coffee and clears his throat before meeting Natasha’s eyes.

“Honestly, at the moment I think she’s a little confused. She’s not one of your flighty one night stands, Tony. You can’t go playing with her and toss her aside when you want an upgrade.”

“An upgrade? Is that what she thinks? Jesus, she’s not… I _know_ she isn’t one of those women. I’m not entirely stupid. I just… I had a lapse of judgment.”

“You’re almost to the truth, why don’t you try again.”

“I… You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I know I am, it’s how I get the job done. Don’t make me do this the hard way.”

“Fuck…” Tony gulps down a mouthful of coffee and leans forward, legs parted and elbows balancing on his thighs as he drags a hand over his scruff. What does he have to lose? It’s not like Natasha doesn’t know how big of a fuck up he is already.

“It’s my fault. If I had waited thirty more seconds she’d be dead, she almost _was_ dead. Her panic button was pressed thirteen minutes before I got there and I… I was too busy yelling at Jarvis because Darcy had somehow made him turn my music to some boy band shit. How stupid is that? I was so distracted _by_ her, by how amazing she is that I almost let her die. I can’t be distracted like that. First it was Pepper falling into a fiery explosion then I watched Darcy fall out of a fucking skyscraper. Pepper was smart to get out while the getting was good. Darcy doesn’t need that kind of danger hanging over her head!”

“First off, Pepper is alive and well thanks _to_ you and your ability to find a cure for what AIM did to her.”

“That was me and Bruce. I can’t take all the credit.”

“Would you let me finish?” Tony sighs and sits back in his seat and waits for his ‘Fix your life’ lecture to be over.

“Darcy is stronger than you’d suspect. She can handle a little danger and you know it. She wouldn’t be living here with all of us if she couldn’t. She would not be friends with James and me or associate with Bruce on a daily basis if she had an aversion to danger. Stark, I know you’re very smart but sometimes you are the absolute stupidest man on this planet. Don’t deny it, you know it’s true.”

“Was there a point to this? I know Darcy is amazing but what I don’t know is why she seems to care for _me_. I’m Tony Stark.”

“And we all know what that title means, so save the definition.” Natasha uncurls her legs from the couch and mimics his earlier position, her hands clasped together between her knees.

“Let me put it to you in layman’s terms, alright? You have a strong affection for Darcy and she scares you because you don’t _want_ to just screw her and send her on her way. Darcy likes you too for more reasons than I can understand, but did you ever stop to think that that’s scaring her, too? Sure, she knows what she’s getting into, anyone who knows of you is well aware of your sordid past. That’s a little intimidating, don’t you think?”

Tony stares at the redhead and swallows thickly suddenly feeling all too sober. Was Darcy scared of whatever she was feeling? Had he given her any reason to think that he didn’t want something _more_ than just a fling? _Fuck._

Natasha’s knowing grin spreads across her face slowly as she stands.

“I need to… Crap. Do you know where she is? She hasn’t gone back to work yet, maybe I can…” he rambles more to himself than to the other person in the room and he nearly misses what she says as his brain goes into planning mode.

“She went home and won’t be back till late Saturday night. I’d let her come to you if I were you.”

“She’s—wait. What?”

“Sober up, Tony and use the rest of the week to really think about what you’re going to do. She isn’t going to wait forever for you to get a clue.”

He blinks in rapid succession and watches her leave quietly. Darcy wasn’t in the tower? When had she left? Did she leave because of what had happened the other night? Who did he ask? Should he even attempt to ask anyone? They had all looked like they wanted to knock him down a notch or two that morning. Let him reiterate, _fuck._

“J, where exactly is Darcy’s ‘home’?”

“I do believe that her immediate family currently resides in Tennessee. I am afraid, however that a specific town isn’t listed.”

“That’s okay… Tennessee, damn. When did she leave?”

“Miss Darcy left with Agent Barton Wednesday morning at precisely 9AM, Sir.”

“Barton drove her to the airport. Well, that’s… I’m not jealous at all.”

“It pains me to inform you but it appears that Agent Barton spent the night with Miss Darcy on Tuesday as well, Sir. There seems to have been some incident in the labs and he was reluctant to leave her side.”

“He _stayed over_ with her? Well, now I am jealous and a little bit pissed. Where is the birdbrain at the moment, J?”

“Agent Barton is in the gym.”

“Thanks, J.”

“Might I suggest you shower and have another cup of coffee before you attempt to confront anyone, Sir?”

“Can it, J.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Tony can’t deny that Jarvis has a point and so he finishes his coffee before going and taking a shower. He feels a bit more level headed and clearer once he’s clean and in a fresh pair of jeans and a Def Leppard T-shirt. Pouring himself another generous helping of caffeine, Tony sets out to find Clint with the intention of finding out if he’s royally fucked this thing up with Darcy or if he can somehow salvage it, it being whatever it is that’s between them. He still doesn’t have a label for it yet.

 

* * *      * * *

 

Clint’s fist connects with the punching bag with a satisfying thunk and he breathes evenly before sending his other fist in the same path. Sweat’s just beginning to bead on his brow and trickle down the back of his neck, his muscles warming up to a nice burn. He gets in a few more punches before he feels the eyes on him and steps away from the bag, ignoring the presence in the room and walking over to where he’d dropped his towel and water. Wiping his face first, he slings the towel around his neck only then facing the other man as he uncaps his water, brow arching at Tony while he swallows down a sup of water.

Wiping his mouth with the towel, Clint screws the lid back onto his bottle and rolls his eyes.

“Was there something you wanted or did you just come in here to ogle my guns? I know I’m pretty, Stark but I don’t swing that way.”

“Ha, ha. You’re funny.”

“You have about sixty seconds to talk or I’m going back to ignoring you.”

“You spent the night with Darcy then took her to the airport.”

“Ah… I see what this it about. But are you really going to start off with that? Did Nat sober you up that quick? I don’t see a black eye or any bruises so I’m guessing she went super easy on you.”

Clint watches as the other man’s face goes through an array of emotions and Clint just _knows_ he can’t figure out if he and Darcy are messing around or something else. It sends a little thrill through the archer that he can play with Tony and make him so fucking confused he’ll wanna go get shitfaced again when he leaves. Hey, he never claimed to be a nice guy.

Tony narrows his eyes and Clint can’t help but to let the hint of a smirk tug at his mouth.

“I’m fine, thanks. And yes, that’s what I’m starting with. Are you… You and Darcy, you’re not…”

Clint cannot hold in his laugh as he lowers himself onto a weight bench figuring he should get comfortable for this show.

“What I mean is, is she alright? What happened in the lab Tuesday? Jarvis won’t tell me anything.”

“That is between Dr. Banner and Miss Darcy, Sir. Patient confidentiality and all.”

“Traitor.”

“Not that listening to you argue with your AI isn’t captivating, Stark but I have better things to do. And Jarvis is right, actually. That’s Darcy’s place to tell you if she wants to. But I can tell you that she’s okay.”

“Did she leave because of what happened then or because of me?”

“A little of both I’d imagine.” Watching Tony Stark squirm over one of his closest friends is an awesome sight to behold.

“She told you about the other night too, then?”

“Yep.”

“Just a second, who the hell else knows?”

“Two others besides myself and Nat and I bet you can’t guess who…”

He grins full out at Tony’s muttered “Shit.” and pushes to his feet to his full height and he knows it’s not that impressive but he’s had years to perfect the art of intimidation. His grin turns a little menacing and he takes a few steps towards the now wide eyed man.

“Look, we all love Darcy in our own way and she’s a pretty important person to all of us. And I know you feel guilty or some shit about the whole alien thing. This is me putting a stop to that right now. Darcy is amazing and I know you know it, too. And for some reason she’s decided that she likes your ass…” he takes a deep breath and stops in front of Tony, reaching out to clap a hand onto his shoulder, grip tightening to the point of painful.

“So that means that you need to get over whatever hang ups you have and get your head out of said ass. Because the first time she _does_ come crying to me about you, I won’t hesitate to put an arrow in you, teammate or not. And I don’t think Barnes would be very put out to smack you around either… Understand?”

“You’re totally giving me the shovel talk right now aren’t you?”

“You bet your iron ass I am. Fuck with Darcy and test me, I dare you.”

“Alright, alright, I get it! You can let go now.”

Clint loosens his grip and brushes the wrinkles out of the sleeve of Tony’s shirt before stepping back and letting his grin melt into a comfortable smile again. Tony nods a couple times and it looks like he’s trying to decipher something in his head. Clint waits patiently and sure enough, Stark’s head snaps back up and meets his gaze. 

“So you and Darcy aren’t together, right? I have your blessing? Why do I even _need_ your blessing?”

“I’ve known her longer and do you really think that I’d try to hit on Darcy? Natasha would murder me in my sleep. Unless she wanted to do a threesome thing, now there’s a thought.”

“And I am leaving. Keep your hands off of Lewis!”

“She isn’t yours yet, Stark, there’s still time for me to ask!” Clint hollers at his retreating back and chuckles to himself. Tony had it about as bad as Darcy if what Nat had told him earlier was true. It was about damn time that he man up and figures it out before Darcy told him to fuck off, too. Thinking about her makes him realize that he hadn’t heard from her today yet so he fishes his cell out of his pocket and sends her a text.

 

* * *      * * *

 

Thursday afternoon finds Darcy slumped in a rocker on her parents' front porch, a long sundress on, her purple painted toes sparkling in the sun, and Creedence Clearwater Revival pouring from her iPod where it rests next to her massive mug of coffee. There’s a book on her lap but she keeps getting distracted from the words in favor of watching her neighbor’s escaped chickens pecking around the yard. She ferries another handful of chocolate covered raisins to her mouth and idly wonders if she throws one out into the yard if the chickens would eat it. Do chickens like chocolate?

She feels stoned, that’s how relaxed she is and she’s so grateful to Natasha and Barnes for suggesting that she come home, she’s gonna go shopping tomorrow and get them something extra special. Nat would look good in a scarf wouldn’t she? Maybe she’ll get Barnes a new wallet. She’ll get Clint a new Nerf bow while she’s at it… Speaking of the devil, her phone chirps (actually chirps like a bird, he hates his alert but smirks every time) and she lays her book across her cleavage and grabs her phone, swiping across the screen and unlocking it.

‘ _I’m pretty sure Nat poisoned Stark’s coffee this morning. You won’t miss him too much, right?’_

Darcy reads it a couple times before replying and ignoring the way her heart skips at the mere mention of the man’s name. She sends back; ‘ _What’d he do this time? If he blew something else up tell Jarvis to save a copy of the footage. His hair gets crazy when he blows shit up.’_ Closing her book and laying it aside she picks up her coffee and takes a gulp, the warmness threading through her veins making her sigh. A few minutes later her phone chirps again.

‘ _He attempted to cook, burnt it and scorched the hell out of a dishtowel. Pretty sure he spent the night with a bottle of Jack. It’s the first time he’s came out of his shop that I know of.’_

She curses under her breath and threads her bottom lip through her teeth to worry the flesh with a furrowed brow. Either he’d found out about her leaving or about her alien ‘infection’. Shitshitshit… Blowing out a breath, she texts Clint back with a to the point; ‘ _Did he find out about me leaving or the panic attack? Ask J.’_ She doesn’t have to wait long for his reply.

‘ _Neither, think it had more to do with_ his _freak out before that. He’s got it bad, kid.’_

Staring at the words till they make sense (they don’t), she adjusts her position in her seat and takes another long sup of black salvation before she finds something to say to that. She goes with; ‘ _Sure he does… He’s okay now tho, right?’_ Pressing send, Darcy fiddles with the tail of her braid and munches on more candy that’s going to ruin her dinner. When the bag is nearly empty she gets Barton’s message.

‘ _You’ll have to see for yourself. And yes, the idiot is okay. Gotta run, everyone says hi!’_

Darcy sighs with relief and she’s in the middle of trying to talk her brain out of texting Tony herself when her phone sounds a different tone. It’s Barnes’ alert this time and there’s a picture attached. Opening it she grins and laughs, missing them about as much as she misses Stark and it’s only been a little over a day. Steve is in the middle, Bucky’s head perched on one of the Cap’s shoulders, Natasha’s on the other, her hair starkly bright in the flash and only the top half of Clint’s head is in the bottom of the frame, from about nose up. She can tell Barnes took the shot because the glint of his left arm is in the shot and they’re all grinning like loons. The caption simply reads; _‘We miss you!’_ and she saves the picture after setting it as her wallpaper.

She’d already talked to Jane earlier that day so her and Thor knew where she was and she was assuming that Bruce would find out from one of them, so really she just wondered if Tony even knew she was gone. Barton said Tony had it bad but as the saying went, actions speak louder than words. She’d just shelve it until she went back to New York, she’d already made up her mind that she was going to confront him anyway. She had two more days to come up with _what_ she was going to say, that was the crux of the thing really.

After her mom calls her in to help with supper, Darcy decides to get a head start on making her move and she sends Tony a text before she gathers her things and goes inside. It’s to the point and a little nonsensical but she figures he’ll get a kick out of it, it reads; ‘ _No more Jack. Jack gets you blown up. Tell Jack to go home. Also, ask Jarvis if chickens like chocolate. It’s for Science!’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I live in the boonies and do in fact watch my neighbor's chickens escape into my yard... I, much like Darcy have no idea if they like chocolate either. ;)
> 
> P.S. We are about two chapters and an epilogue away from the end in my guesstimation...


	15. Inside out and upside down we go...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's mom makes an appearance and Tony has a very important conversation that makes him realize that he may be the Tin Man but he's as mad as the Hatter...

Darcy wakes up bright and early Friday morning for some ungodly reason and groans loudly refusing to open her eyes as she rolls over onto her other side. She dozes on and off for a good hour before she gives it up and throws her covers back with a huff of frustration. She hadn’t gotten a reply from Tony the night before and it was causing little pockets of doubt to pop up in her plan to fix things between them. And she didn’t want to text any of the others to see if Stark was actually smashed again, nope she wasn’t going to bother them. Besides, this was _her_ vacation time so she was going to enjoy it, dammit.

Dragging her ass from the warmth of her bed Darcy picks out some comfy but appropriate clothes for her day of shopping and heads into the bathroom to shower and get ready. When she emerges forty five minutes later with minimal makeup and her hair still wrapped in a towel but dressed, she follows her nose to the smell of coffee and finds her mom sitting at the kitchen table reading a paper. She was not used to seeing an actual printed paper since moving into the tower and the sight makes her pause for a minute.

“Get me a cup too, would you?” her mom doesn’t look up from the article she’s engrossed in and Darcy easily slips into waitress mode, used to it by now. While she’s waiting for the coffee to finish brewing she scrambles eggs and makes toast, her movements easy and she catches herself when she almost doubles what the two of them would eat. Damn super-soldiers with hollow legs, she’s blaming them for that almost slip up.

Sliding her food and coffee in front of her mom, Darcy settles into a chair across from the woman with her own breakfast. She sips her coffee with reverence, she’s positive her mom’s coffee is better than Stark’s and he only drinks the best shit. They eat in comfortable silence but it doesn’t slip Darcy’s notice that the brunette keeps eyeing her over her coffee mug. Once Darcy’s finished she sits back in her chair, cradling her coffee like a precious gem and stares at her mother.

“Alright, out with it, the suspense is killing me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Darcy narrows her eyes at her as she takes another sup of coffee before answering.

“You suck at lying _almost_ as bad as I do, mom. Come on, you haven’t asked me once why I just showed back up. I know you’re about to burst at the seams with questions.”

“I had a very interesting conversation with your friend Jane a week or so ago…”

“Ah, there it is!”

“And I saw an alarming segment on CNN about those ‘Avenger’ characters.”

Darcy swallows a mouthful of coffee down too quickly and chokes as it goes down the wrong pipe. She has to wave her mom off as she hacks up a lung and manages to sit her cup down and grabs a napkin, her eyes watering. Holding onto her healing side gingerly, she grimaces as each breath she takes shoots pain through her torso. She ignores her mother’s worried stare and attempts to compose herself.

“Exactly,” clearing her throat she asks the $64 question. “What do the Avengers have to do with what you talked to Jane about?”

Her mom pushes her plate to the side and folds her hands serenely on top of her cheery blue bird placemat and meets Darcy’s gaze evenly and suddenly she feels like she’s in the ninth grade all over again. She’d got caught smoking in the girl’s bathroom and been grounded for a month. Her mother’s disappointed face is nearly as bad as Steve’s.

“The Avengers ran some aliens off but there were a few reports of collateral damage, none fatal if you can believe the news. They’ve been all over the news the last few years so that’s nothing new. What really caught my attention was a shot of the one they call Iron Man carrying a lovely unconscious brunette. Now, any other time I would have said a prayer for that poor girl and went about my day but something just wouldn’t let me quit thinking about her…”

Darcy is pretty sure that the color has drained from her face and she can’t help but fidget in her seat.

“Imagine my surprise when Jane called a few days later and just happened to ask if I’d been watching the news lately. It was a really easy thing to add two and two by that point, Darcy.”

“So what you’re saying is that you think I was the girl To—Iron Man saved?”

Her mother’s eyes narrow just a titch as her head cants to the side and Darcy just _knows_ that that little slip up of Tony’s name has just damned her to hell. Hell being her mom’s expert ways of dragging information out of her. She swears that the woman could work seamlessly alongside Natasha and she fears the day that they ever meet.

“Hit the nail on the head. Now let me see it.”

Darcy deflates because there is no wiggle room in the tone that her mom’s voice takes on. No amount of forms saying she can’t tell anyone exactly what she does is enough to scare her now. Her mother has been her best friend since she was little and she was _her_ hero before she’d known any of the real superheroes. So she pushes back from the table and stands blowing out a long sigh as she moves around to her mom’s side and lifts her shirt.

“Oh, Darcy… Are you okay? Were you in the hospital long enough? That looks nasty. You don’t have to tell me what happened, I saw some of the news coverage so I can imagine. Lord.”

Lowering her shirt to cover her new scar, Darcy bends and wraps her arms around the older woman’s shoulders and breathes in the comforting smell of her childhood. Her mom twists and hugs her back careful of her side now. If they both are sniffling when they pull apart, neither of them says anything about it. Darcy refills their coffee before she goes back to her seat and filters through what little she can tell and what she really shouldn’t, lest Coulson lock her up when she gets back.

“Yes, I’m okay and I had only the best care. Trust me…” she swallows a gulp of liquid courage and presses on. “Tony Stark doesn’t skimp on things for his employees.”

This time it’s her mother who snorts coffee into her sinuses. Darcy tries on her innocent face for size and thinks maybe she’ll have to clear all liquids before she tells her the next part. When her mom’s breathing normally and staring at Darcy with her ‘if you don’t talk _now_ ’ glare, she rambles on.

“I mean technically, I work for Pepper Potts. Yes, she’s the CEO of Stark Industries, yes I know you know that. I’m her PA if you want to get nit-picky about it. But um… I live in Stark Tower, well it’s Avengers Tower now and you could say that I have some amazing friends? Don’t give me that look, I don’t have to pay rent and it’s owned and controlled by one of the most paranoid men in the world and safety wise is like Fort Knox, maybe… There was that one time but Bruce doesn’t like to talk about it. Anyway!”

She bites at her bottom lip watching her mother’s face flick through a range of emotions from horror to curiosity and it’s like a roulette wheel, she doesn’t know what it’s going to land on. It lands on determination and Darcy is so screwed.

“I know how to use the internet, Darcy Ann Lewis. I’ve read all about those people that make up that team. Good Lord, I can’t even… Are you serious? Dr. Banner is the—the HULK. And there are assassins and that Barnes man. And don’t even get me started on that ass Tony Stark! He may be some kind of backwards humanitarian _now_ but he used to be an asshole. And you’re working for him and living under his roof…”

“In his defense, Tony’s still an asshole… And since you’re bashing all of my closest friends you should lump me in there, too. I’ve trained with Natasha and Barnes. I spend more time with him and Steve, yes Captain America, mom, than I do with Jane these days. Oh, and you forgot Thor, you know the God of thunder, yeah. He’s a cuddly teddy bear and kicks my ass at Mortal Kombat every Saturday when we have movie/game nights. Not only do I live there, I take care of them and they take care of me. They’re some of the most extraordinary people that I have _ever_ had the chance to meet and I love them all. And that includes Stark.”

Darcy sucks in a breath before she can lose her nerve and plows ahead completely ignoring her mother’s mouth gaping open in shock like her daughter just grew tentacles. Ew, bad analogy, she still has nightmares about that. Pushing back from the table, she drags the towel off her head and speaks her parting words as wet curls tumble over her shoulders.

“And _that_ right there is the answer to your burning question while I’m at it; I came home because I made the mistake of falling head over heels in love with that _asshole_ and I needed a vacation before I strangled him with his own suit. So there, I’m in love with Tony Stark and I’m about 98% sure that he feels the same and I’m just scaring the shit out of him. He’s not great with relationships, but that’s beside the point, neither am I really. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go finish getting ready, I’m taking one of Stark’s company credit cards for a spin.”

She doesn’t give her mom a chance to reply and she exits the kitchen leaving her spluttering at her retreating back. That isn’t exactly how she’d wanted to drop that bomb on her family but that woman was so freaking stubborn. At least she gets it honest. As she dries her hair she plots knowing if she gets her mom something pretty and apologizes later that everything will be fine. Fuck, she’s turned into Tony buying people’s approval. Surprising thing is, she doesn’t feel all that bad about it.

 

*

 

Four hours later finds Darcy surrounded with bags and sitting at a tiny table in the food court and eating one of the greasiest hamburgers she’s had in years. Thank God for southern cooking. She’s swirling a French fry in ketchup and people watching when her phone emits a tone that she hasn’t heard before. Plopping the fry into her mouth she wipes her hands off on a napkin before digging around in her pocketbook for the thing. She’d been getting random texts from the team throughout the day so she’s a little curious at whom it could be.

Thumbing the screen unlocked, she opens the message and nearly chokes on her fry. It’s from Jarvis (when had he changed his text tone? She’d put money on Tony doing it when she’d been in the hospital) and the caption reads; ‘ _Family portrait?’_ On Tony’s couch in the shop sits an Iron Man suit (and she can’t be sure if Tony’s actually _in_ it or not) and behind him hanging over his left shoulder is Dum-E, his claw tilted at an angle like the bot had wanted to look pretty for the camera. And sitting to the suit’s right side in front of the couch is Minnie with her arm resting on Iron Man’s knee, her bow on display. Darcy stares at it for a good two minutes without blinking before she bursts into laughter, oblivious of the odd looks people are casting her.

He may not have replied to her message from the day before but this, this is so much better. Instead of replying to Jarvis, she saves the picture and scrolls through her contacts and finds Tony’s number. She sends him a short text and grins while doing so. ‘ _More Christmas card material than family portrait, really.’_ Not really expecting a reply, Darcy lies her phone down and resumes eating, something warm unfurling in her stomach. She wants to go back to Manhattan and she can’t wait for tomorrow to get here so she can.

Her phone beeps at her and she snatches it off the table managing to get salt and grease on her screen but it’s worth it.

‘ _I think they’d revolt if we put Santa hats on them. Photoshop, definitely.’_

She replies after wiping her hands and screen clean; ‘ _You have a point. No robot rebellion is ideal.’_ Darcy takes a sip of her sugary drink and sits back in her seat and wonders if what Clint said yesterday was really true. Did Tony have it as bad as she did? Is that what this was, this feeling that something was so close and yet so far from her grasp? She knew nothing was close to being set in stone until they could actually talk face to face, but it made her nervous. And there was the whole dream world thing... Was she going to tell him about that? It was just another thing to add to her list of things to think about.

He doesn’t reply till she’s in the middle of loading her bags into the trunk of her borrowed car and she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t tear up when she read his response. She waits until she’s behind the wheel with the radio blaring to read it. And it’s only two words, but it’s all Darcy needs to make up her mind about the majority of things on her list.

* * *      * * *

 

“Sir, Ms. Potts is on her way down.”

“Let her in.”

“Yes Sir.”

Well, it was time to face the firing squad so to speak.

After his drunken incident the day before followed by his lecture from Natasha, he’d had a light-bulb moment. (He wasn’t even going to mention the shovel talk with Barton, nope, never happened. He’d made sure Jarvis had deleted the footage anyway.) If he didn’t step up and let Darcy know that he was serious she’d probably end up in a relationship with Barton and Natasha or hell, for all he knew she’d end up being the meat in a super-soldier sandwich. He shudders to think of either of those scenarios happening.

He wants her and he almost always gets what he wants. Yes, he’s aware of how douchebag rich boy he sounds. Get over it because it’s the truth of the matter. Actually, scratch that, the truth of the matter is that he _wants_ Darcy. He wants everything that entails and he doesn’t care how high the cost is. So his first step of business was to take a silly picture with the bots and send it to her.

Second step; Call Pepper in. He may have gotten Barton’s and possibly Natasha’s blessings, but he needed to talk to Pepper. He would always love her to a fault and he really didn’t want it to be weird between any of them. Not to mention that Pepper had already promised death if he went anywhere near her PA and… oops?

“Have you eaten today? I had a meeting run late so lunch was forgotten and I’m starved. Here, I brought you something anyway.”

“Hello to you too, dearest, and no, I haven’t eaten yet. I was preoccupied and, oh is that turkey?”

Tony cleans off the end of one of the less messy tables and pulls a chair up for Pepper as she takes a seat, eyeing him suspiciously. He chooses to ignore that look at the moment and digs into the turkey sub that she sets down in front of him. They make small talk while they eat, the music set to background noise and the bots puttering around them, it’s nice. He misses this with her but at the same time he craves another presence which brings him to why he called her in the first place.

“So, I’m just going to rip off the proverbial band-aid here,” he takes a swig from the bottled water she’d brought him and watches her expression as she pauses with a bite mid-way to her mouth. “I’m sort of, maybe… No, definitely, I’m in love with your assistant.” Tony waits for the anger or the shouting and is left sorely disappointed.

Pepper slowly places her sandwich down, wipes her mouth politely with her napkin, and then sits back in her chair with a smile blooming over her face. Tony’s first thought is, ‘Uh, oh…’ She stares at him for a moment longer as if she’s weighing his words and he can’t take the silence anymore.

“Come on, yell at me, do _something_! This anticipation tactic you’ve got going on is driving me batty!”

“Phil owes me twenty bucks.”

“Phil, who’s Phil? Agent Lazarus? He does what now? Wait, you know? AND you betted on ME?!”

She simply hums in response and picks her lunch back up and continues eating while Tony stares on in amazement. His shrieking goes unanswered and that wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He hadn’t planned for this. Wait, why was Pepper talking to Coulson?

“Why are you betting on my life with Coulson, Pepper?”

“We’ve been dating for four months, Tony.”

He sputters embarrassingly lost for words and he’s pretty sure he’s in another dimension because, _what_? She’s trumping his confession! This isn’t fair! He pulls a Monica and says as much.

“You’re stealing my thunder, woman!”

He watches in fascination as she finishes her sandwich, cleans up her mess, and stands. She moves over to his side and bends down placing a friendly kiss on his cheek before straightening. Tony looks up at her, his arms crossed over his chest petulantly but his eyes are sparkling with adoration.

“You have my blessing. But if she quits her job because you’re an ass, I’m taking it out on you.”

“Gotcha.”

Pepper smiles softly down at him and nods then turns on her red soled heels and leaves him to work out the mess in his head all by his little lonesome. He contemplates things while he finishes his water then watches the bots amble back and forth across the shop floor. He’s got Pepper’s stamp of approval along with the assassins’ (yeah, he wasn’t even going to approach the Bicentennial Man and his patriotic boyfriend yet, that could wait till later, much later) so now all he was missing was Darcy’s own acceptance.

Easy, right? He would apologize for being such an ass and pray like hell that she saw pity on him. Tony realizes then that he had actually told Pepper that he loves Darcy and, _oh._ There it is, there’s the label that he couldn’t write down to tape onto this thing he and Darcy have. He loves her. He is _in_ love with her. Her smile makes his skin feel like it’s too small where it’s stretched over his bones, makes his bones thrum like someone hitting a hollow steel pipe; it reverberates through his entire being.

He wants to make her another bot so she can stupidly name it Mickey. Tony wants to kiss her like he did the other night, was it just the other night? It seems like a lifetime ago. Oh God, he wants those dreams he had when she was in a coma to happen. The dancing, the mini humans, the waking up with her, especially that part, he’s so far gone and he never even realized it till now. It took her almost dying in his arms for him to wake up and see what was right in front of him.

Tony laughs out loud and it’s a sound that only happens when Darcy is around anymore. He’s so close to having what he needs that he can smell her perfume. And he wishes she were here so he could tell her all of this, so he could _show_ her. And he isn’t even drunk, is this what it means to grow up? Snorting at himself, he gets up and searches for his phone that he’d discarded when Pepper got there. He needs to text her back anyway and what better way to get his point across than telling her exactly what he wants? Yeah, he knows there isn’t a better option either. When he finds it, he opens up their message thread and types the two words that will cement their future together. And when he sends it, it’s with a smile and hope in his chest.

 

‘ _Come home.’_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER THEN AN EPILOGUE. WE ARE SLIDING INTO HOME. I'M NERVOUS. Are you?  
> Seriously, you can expect the next two parts to be doozies due to tying up loose ends and other... things, tho. It ain't over till the fat lady sings and I heard that she's on vacation in Egypt, anyway. ;)


	16. We followed the Yellow Brick Road to Wonderland.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is more than twice the size of the normal chapters, so get a cup of coffee, settle in, and enjoy.  
> Now, on to the last act!

Saturday is a bit of a long, fuzzy blur to Darcy. She gets up with the roosters, showers and gets ready making sure she’s packed and ready to go before she sneaks into the kitchen to make her parents breakfast. Her flight isn’t until fifteen after eleven so she figures she has enough time to butter her mom up with an ‘I’m-sorry-I-love-a-superhero’ wakeup call.

She wakes them up with the smell of coffee and music streaming from the kitchen into their bedroom where she’d opened the door in passing. They zombie-walk in with blinking eyes and sleepy smiles just as she’s setting the table, Darcy figures she’s momentarily forgiven. They eat with quiet conversation, mostly asking when she’s coming back and the like and she’s a little heartsick when she tells them that she doesn’t honestly know. They assure her it’s alright as long as she makes it back for at least one holiday. The; ‘And bring your ‘ _friend_ ’ with you.’ that her mom tacks onto the end nearly makes Darcy choke on her hash browns.

When breakfast is over, Darcy excuses herself and returns to the kitchen with their parting gifts. Her mom’s eyes light up at the burnt orange throw that Darcy picked out and her dad chuckles at the little Hulk action figure and green pocket knife she’d snatched up for him. She can’t hide a grin as they both hug her, thanking her. Too soon, but not soon enough her dad’s helping her load her bags into the car and her mom’s squeezing her within an inch of her life with tears in her eyes.

“You’ll call me more often… now that I know?”

“Of course, now I’ll have someone to yell at me when I want to taser Tony.”

They both laugh at that when her mom agrees before Darcy steps back and grins with her own teary gaze.

“Go get him, honey. And you be sure to tell him that he _will_ be meeting us in the near future come hail or high water! I don’t care if he’s the richest man in the world, I will be making sure he knows that he’s to do right by my baby.”

Darcy bursts out laughing and hugs her mom again tighter then nods rapidly promising to do just that. She can’t wait to see Stark’s face when she springs that and the holiday thing on him. She’ll most definitely be making sure that Jarvis is recording it. Saying a final goodbye, she slips into the passenger’s seat and waves at her mom as they back out of the driveway. The ride to the airport is comfortable with her dad regaling her with tales of his softball team and some of her uncle’s crazy antics. She’s laughing so hard by the time they get to their tiny airport, she’s clutching her side and wiping at her eyes. She remembers where she gets her smart mouth and sense of humor as she grins at her dad.

He insists on helping her get her bags checked in and waits to hug her and say bye only when she has her carry-on and pocketbook. He makes her promise to email him pictures of Steve’s shield and Tony’s suit because he still doesn’t believe that she lives with them all. She’s still laughing when she boards the plane thirty minutes later. A layover and a three hour delay in Charlotte later and Darcy is finally jammed into a window seat next to a tiny old woman and on her way back to New York.

By the time Darcy gets her bags, finds a cab (she didn’t tell anyone what time she’d be back), and crawls into the backseat she’s starved, tired, and ready for a very long nap. As horrible as traffic is, it’s another forty-five minutes before she’s dropped off a damn block from the tower and has to lug her bags out of the trunk herself and is left standing on the curb. (She sees the error of her ways now and wishes she’d begged someone to come get her from the airport.) With a huff of annoyance, she hefts her shit up and trudges up the sidewalk. When she sees the first peek of that ugly (beautiful, absolutely gorgeous) A on the tower she nearly cries with relief.

Rolling her suitcase with her carry-on perched perilously on top of it down the uneven sidewalk, she moves around to the back entrance. Stopping only to get her ID out of her pocketbook, she waves it at the security guard and smiles tiredly when he waves her on. She knows him, takes him doughnuts and coffee sometimes when he works the nightshift and she can’t sleep and he shows her pictures of his new twins, adorable little things. Finally past the official crap, Darcy makes a beeline for the elevator, her heart beating a happy rhythm because she’s _home._

“Miss Darcy, welcome home! Should I alert the others that you have returned?”

“J-Man, I have missed you sooo much! And, nah, I’m pretty trashed and don’t want to bother anyone yet.”

“Very well, to your quarters, then?”

“You’ve got it, dude!”

Darcy smiles and leans against the chrome wall to her right, closing her eyes as the lift takes her up to her floor. It feels so good to be home that she doesn’t think she’ll ever leave again, at least alone that is. The doors slide open with a ping and she grabs her bag and jerks it out of the elevator with what energy she has left into the hall. Blowing a breath out and effectively blowing a strand of hair off of her glasses, Darcy ambles down to her apartment. Thank God for Jarvis because she’s too tired to dig for her keys at the moment and she says as much while she enters her living room.

Dragging her stuff into her bedroom she eyes her bed with longing but the angry growls her stomach is making, makes her put off sleep for just a little longer. She prays that Barton hadn’t raided her kitchen and invited Steve and Barnes to eat her out of house and home while she was gone. Dropping her bags off next to her dresser, she turns and backtracks to find out. Apparently someone had been taking care of her food while she’d been away because there isn’t anything growing green and all her favorites are in stock. She loves this place. She sticks a burrito in the microwave and pulls a beer out of the fridge and turns her TV on flicking through the channels and finds ‘Robin Hood: Men in Tights’ on. Grabbing her food and a fork Darcy settles on her couch and chows down while laughing at the movie.

She ends up watching the whole movie and isn’t even sure what time it is when she turns everything off and drags her feet back into her room. She only has enough mind to take her glasses off, and plug her phone up before she strips down to her sports bra and panties and collapses face down onto her bed. Rolling and worming her way into the covers, Darcy tugs Henry to her chest and is asleep within seconds.

 

* * *      * * *

 

“So what you’re saying is that you want me to build you better wings, am I correct?”

“Now I never said—“

“Nope, you brought it up and challenge accepted!”

Steve just rolls his eyes and Tony grins at Sam as he steals a veggie pot sticker from Bruce’s plate. He’s sober today and actually being social, he thinks that he’s maybe shocked them all except for Natasha who keeps shooting him curious glances, to which he just winks at her. Barton may have kicked him once or twice for winking at his girl. It’s hilarious.

“Another warrior with the ability to fly, I am honored to call you my friend.”

Sam smiles at the blonde Asgardian and smacks Tony’s knuckles with his chopsticks, his smile morphing into a glare directed at him. He’d been picking food off of everyone’s plates (except Barnes, he didn’t want to lose an arm then match the assassin) and he guesses the others are used to it but the soldier isn’t. It warms the cockles of Tony’s heart that he has a new person to annoy.

“Excuse me, Sir but you asked to be notified when Miss Darcy returned, she is now back in the tower.”

“Ah, thanks, J.”

Tony takes a bite of an eggroll and stands, pausing mid-chew when he notices that all eyes are staring at him. He blinks a couple times and resumes chewing, wiping his hands on a napkin before crossing his arms defensively over his chest. Drats, he’s been found out. Swallowing his bite, he wipes his mouth and speaks.

“What? Why the owl eyes?”

“You asked Jarvis to keep track of Darcy?” Tony turns his gaze on Steve with an arched brow that says ‘ _So?’_

“I just wanted to make sure she made it in okay… Wait, if we’re all here who went and got her from the airport?”

Jane’s eyes widen, Thor tosses his drink back and stands as Barton and Barnes curse simultaneously. They both push back from the table and Tony watches them before casting Natasha and Steve looks. Bruce and Jarvis speak at the same time.

“She text me—“

“Sir, she asked not to be disturbed and seemed rather exhausted. I would advise that you allow her to rest before attempting to speak with her. And my apologies for interrupting Dr. Banner.”

“No, that’s okay, Jarvis. I was just saying that she sent me a message a few hours ago. She had a delayed flight and asked if we could talk tomorrow.” He eyes Clint and the archer nods and sits back down, Bucky following his example and slumping back down next to Steve.

“Oh, well if Lady Darcy is in need of rest, rest she shall have.”

Tony almost rolls his eyes at Thor, it’s a close call but he refrains and like a good puppy (totally not because of Nat’s piercing gaze) he also sits back down and picks his chopsticks back up. He glances at Sam and can’t help but to laugh as the guy chews slowly and his eyes ping-pong back and forth to whomever is speaking like it’s the most entertainment he’s seen in a hot minute. Sam just grins at him with cabbage stuck in his teeth and Tony rolls his eyes and goes back to eating, the conversation around the table picking right back up.

That night after dinner, Tony resist the urge to burst into Darcy’s room and goes down to his shop instead. Natasha’s words from days before still ringing in his ears, and he heeds them, this time. He’s going to let Darcy come to him, he just hopes that it’s sooner rather than later. With that thought he putters around working on the specs of a new suit and anything else that will keep him occupied. He doesn’t wander his tired way up to bed until about 3AM and falls across his bed fully dressed and is out in minutes.

 

* * *      * * *

 

Darcy wakes up just after nine with her cover completely over her head and she stretches lazily, her limbs sleep heavy as she pushes the material down and blinks at the light straining through her curtains. Yawning hugely, she rolls onto her right side and winces as something stabs her touchy skin. Reaching under her cover she clumsily feels around until she pulls the offending thing from under her wounded side and snorts when she finds Henry staring perpetually happy up at her. Sitting him atop her pillow, she pushes herself up and shoves her hair out of her face and off of her shoulders before she climbs out of bed.

Checking her phone she snorts at the mixed texts from most of the team berating her for not letting them know that she’d gotten in. She’s actually surprised that no one has made an appearance yet as she cracks her door open and sees an empty apartment. Still in her underwear she staggers into the kitchen and takes her pills before sending a text to Steve that says; _‘Chocolate chip pancakes and coffee with the assassins after I get the travel stench off me?’_ She rinses her cup out and walks back into the bedroom, grabbing clean underwear, a pair of loose jeans and her well worn Metallica t-shirt and she almost makes it into the bathroom when she hears her phone go off. His reply is short and sweet and makes her smile.

_‘Sir, yes, Sir! ;)’_

 

*

 

Thirty minutes later Darcy is fresh as a daisy and stepping out of the hall and into the kitchen. She squeaks as her feet suddenly leave the floor and her world spins, her fingers clutching onto the arms that are banded around her middle. When her feet are firmly planted back onto the ground she pats at the strong arms while her heart rights itself.

“Don’t hog her, Barton!”

“Welcome home, kid. Miss me?”

“I miss seeing straight!”

Darcy laughs breathlessly as Clint lets her go and she turns to give him a hug. She barely squeezes him before a tug on a belt loop of her jeans pulls her out of Barton’s hold and a metal arm spins her around and snakes around her waist. Darcy blinks up into a smiling face and it causes her own lips to tilt up because today Bucky’s eyes are clear of nightmares and it’s all him, no cobwebs. This is the way she loves him best. He presses a kiss to her forehead and squeezes her just a little tighter.

“Mornin’, Doll.”

“And a good morning to you too.”

“Hey, doesn’t the cook get a hug, too?”

“It depends on how good the food is!”

Snickering, Darcy steps out of Barnes’ embrace and takes his hand in hers and moves further into the kitchen with him trailing behind. Natasha sits on a stool at the island watching Steve cook, Barton next to her sipping on coffee. Bucky squeezes her hand and releases her, moving to rest next to the stove close to Cap. Darcy knows the redhead can hear and feel her get closer so she doesn’t hesitate to press into her side and place a smacking kiss on her cheek. Nat doesn’t move but the corner of her mouth lifts up in a pleased smile and Darcy calls it a success.

Skirting around the island, Darcy sidles up to Steve and pokes him in the side and grins as he has to bend down just so she can reach his face. She demurely kisses his cheek and bites back a laugh at the faint blush that colors his cheeks when he straightens and pulls her into a hug. He isn’t innocent by any means, never has been to hear Bucky tell it, but attention from women still makes him awkward. It’s adorable.

They eat enough for a small army and go through three pots of coffee while she tells them about her trip and they give her an exaggerated version of Drunk!Tony. At least she hopes it’s exaggerated because otherwise she may have to kick his ass. Natasha of all people present is surprisingly the one to reassure her that he’s doing much better. Darcy just blinks at her for a few minutes as they have a silent conversation. She’s going to get details out of the woman later if she has to ply her with food or let her beat her around the training mat, whatever it takes. When she’s stuffed and got a to-go cup of coffee she bids them farewell and sets off to the labs to see the other half of the team. (Minus one.)

She finds Thor hefting equipment for Jane as the tiny scientist explains something with expressive hand gestures to a nodding Bruce. Darcy watches them for a minute, shaking her head in fond amusement before announcing her presence. Jane squeals and Darcy winces as she’s tackled by the woman and pats her back as her freakishly strong arms squeeze the life out of Darcy.

“Jane, ouch, wounded and I kinda need air to live!”

“Oh! Sorry, I’ve just been so worried about you! How’s your mom? Did you have a good time? Is that coffee?”

Darcy rolls her eyes at the rapid fire questioning and takes a sip of the steaming black goodness before handing it over to Jane’s grabby hands. As soon as her hands are free Thor swoops in and enfolds her in a flannel colored hug. She grins and wraps her arms around him and boy is she getting a lot of hugs today says her ‘Easy A’ brain. She brushes her hair over her shoulder as he releases her and grins down at her. Poking him in the abs, she mirrors his grin and crosses her eyes causing him to laugh when Jane hollers for him. The fierce woman had already forgotten her questions and gone right back to work, it’s okay though, Darcy is so very used to it.

Thor gives her a wink and turns back to his beloved and Darcy flicks her gaze over to Bruce where he’s leaning back against a desk and taking inventory of her from afar. She offers him a grin and he smiles back before canting his head towards his ‘office’ so they can have a little privacy. Darcy follows him into the connected room that really masquerades as storage room for his and Jane’s random junk. They pick their way around the left behind and unused equipment to the two chairs that are plunked in front of a counter that houses a coffee maker that would make Tony weep. (It’s that bad.)

“Well, you certainly look better than the last time I saw you if I may say.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve had time to rest and think a lot of things over the last few days. I’m sorry I left without letting you know I was going, I just had to get away after… that.”

“No, no, I understand! Don’t worry about that. I got your test results back by the way, you’re clear.”

“The alien crap is out of my system?”

“Yes, but I would finish out those antibiotics just to be safe.”

Darcy nods and fiddles with the ring on her pointer finger, debating on whether she should actually ask him what she’d planned on all along. She didn’t want to get her hopes up or sound stupidly paranoid. Not after her freak out, she already made herself look like a lunatic in front of Banner. Before she can decide and talk herself out of it, Bruce does it for her.

“Darcy… I know we’re not as close as you and the others, well, I’m not really used to letting anyone close to be honest, but you know you can talk to me, right? That doctor-patient confidentiality thing can apply to whatever you want. I… I’m your friend…”

She blinks at the fluffy haired scientist, that being the most he’d ever said to her at once that didn’t have to do with her health. Nodding slowly Darcy clears her throat and sits a little straighter. She has to make herself meet his eyes before she speaks.

“The… Those vivid dreams you’d asked me about? Well, when I was in a coma I had a pretty damn realistic and _ongoing_ dream. It had a lot to do with Stark and I won’t go into details right now, but it was more like I was living a different life than just dreaming.”

“That sounds about right. Even though you lost so much blood there was enough residual toxins to produce those kinds of hallucinations.”

“So it was _normal_ , right? Because at times it felt like it was the real world and this one was the dream one. There were moments when I didn’t really want to leave if we’re being honest… I mean when I dreamed there it was snatches of what I suppose was the hospital here. It was like that episode of Supernatural! ‘What is and What Should Never Be’ where Dean was kidnapped and drugged by a Djinn.”

“I, ah… I don’t watch much television, but I think I understand the gist. But yes, that was normal. Had you died here though, you would have there, too. Your body is your anchor if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Gotcha, Doc.” Darcy smiles sincerely at the man and she’s happy to see him return her smile with a genuine one of his own. She stands and shakes his hand politely instead of overwhelming him with a hug like she normally would. He chuckles and shakes his head at her silliness. Darcy has her hand on the knob about to turn it when he speaks again.

“Oh, and I almost forgot! Um, when you were still in the hospital Tony got pretty messed up one night, I think he drank a few bottles of scotch or something, but anyway, he was rambling when I ran into him in the kitchen. He mentioned something about surreal dreams… It caught my attention so I, ah… I did a little digging and found something…”

Darcy tries oh so hard to ignore her pounding heart and nods at him waiting for him to continue.

“Steve said when Tony brought you into the ER that he wouldn’t leave you and uh, he had your blood all over him and his suit. He wouldn’t even listen to Natasha when she got there, and it got me thinking… Those toxins were fresh in your bloodstream when he got to you and he’d taken his gauntlets off to… well, you know, but my point is! He may have gotten a glimpse into your dreams when your blood soaked into his skin. Most viruses can be passed through saliva and especially blood so there’s a possibility…”

She stares at Bruce with wide eyes as her stomach does cartwheels. Tony had seen… He knew? Swallowing her confusion instead of letting it take her over again she takes a deep breath and nods at the scientist with a thousand butterflies in her tummy.

“You should talk to him about it… And I probably shouldn’t say anything, as big of an ass as he is, he’s my friend, though, so; he blames himself for what happened to you. Something about not getting there in time, I didn’t get _all_ of the details from Natasha…”

Darcy splutters at the mischievous glint in Bruce’s gaze and this time she doesn’t hesitate to throw her arms around him and hug him tight as she can. He laughs lightly and pats her on the back much like she had done to Jane just a while before. She lets him go and thanks him as a plan forms in her mind and she calls out goodbyes to the other two in the lab before she exits with determination in her every step.

 

*

 

An hour later and Darcy is loaded down with takeout bags for lunch and on the elevator, her nerves twitching with anticipation as Jarvis takes her down to Stark’s workshop. She has devised a plan that will either end up with some really great sex or leave her frustrated and convincing Dum-E that it’s okay to strangle the life from his creator. She’s hoping for the former because the latter just makes her sad. With a hyper heart as the doors open for her, Darcy strides into the shop and has to glance around before she finds him.

Tony is in an actual T-shirt today but it doesn’t stop the way her lady parts tingle as his biceps flex as he messes with whatever’s in front of him. He’s wearing those low-slung jeans that she wants to take off of him and wow, déjà vu anyone? The sight of him reminds her of the day that started this whole mess, except he was in a wife-beater and she’d just stopped by to make sure he was well fed. My how the times they were a’ changin’.

She had asked Jarvis not to announce her and to give her a minute before cutting the music and she would feel bad about it but she likes surprising Tony. He’s got most of the smarts so at least she has his AI on her side and willing to do her evil bidding. Darcy watches as Tony goes very still the moment the music suddenly cuts out and it takes everything she has to stay rooted to the spot.

“Did you have a nice vacation?”

“It was awesome. Flight back sucked, but I survived.”

“I bet…”

“I brought food.”

Tony turns around at that and they both are helpless but to soak up the sight of the other. He twirls a wrench around in his fingers and Darcy starts at his toes and rakes her gaze up, up, up until she finally meets his gaze, drowning there in those precious whiskey hues. She swallows a lump in her throat and feels a blush creep up her neck as he returns the gesture somewhat slower than she had. She _wants_ but Darcy makes herself dial it down because there are things they need to talk about and she just can’t let them lie in a pile between them. It’s time to clean house.

He clears his throat and tosses his wrench back onto the table then gestures over at the couch. Darcy just nods and wills her feet to move. She’s halfway there when she catches something out of the corner of her eye. A grin graces her features and she momentarily forgets her nerves as Minnie ‘sees’ her and rolls towards her. Darcy is not ashamed, not even a little that she squats down and hugs the hunk of metal with one arm, talking to it as if it could actually talk back. At the sound of a bemused chuckle, she rolls her eyes and gives her bot a parting pat on the claw before making her way to the couch again.

“Don’t you laugh at me, Stark, you have the grown up version of her!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dum-E is in time out, definitely not an adult.”

“What’d he do this time?” Darcy asks as she spreads their lunch out on the cushion between them.

“What does he always do?”

“Either fire extinguisher trick or broke the coffee pot?”

“Try broke the coffee pot _with_ the fire extinguisher.”

They catch up on the safe topics as they eat and with every laugh or snarky comment Darcy feels a little lighter. She knows that every day will not be this easy between them but she’s more than willing to give it a shot. By the time the food is gone and she’s leaning back against the arm of the couch and watching Tony’s profile, she knows that there’s not going to be a better time than then to lay it all on the line.

“Sooo… A birdie told me that you think what happened to me is somehow your fault.”

Tony stops chewing for a second and glances at her before flicking his gaze back down to his fries. He swallows and stalls by taking a drink of his water. Darcy is about to throw something at him when he finally answers.

“A red bird or a green bird?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

“Then, care to enlighten me? Because I’m mightily confused as to how an alien invasion and my smart mouth is in any way shape or form _your_ fault.”

He clears his throat and balls up his empty wrapper, tossing it into the bag before standing and motioning for her to follow him. “If we’re really going to have this out then I’d rather be working while we do so if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest, but the first hologram I see, Jarvis will shut it all down.”

“Damn you, J!”

“I do apologize, Sir, but I have rather missed Miss Darcy.”

She tries not to laugh but she really can’t contain it when Stark mumbles to himself and sighs loudly. She is glad though when instead of picking up a tool, he just rests a hip against his littered table and crosses his arms then meets her gaze. Darcy has to school her features and figures if he’s going to be comfortable in his element she might as well be, too. So she grabs one of his rolling chairs and plops down in it about six feet away from him in the middle of the floor. She mimics his pose with her arms and waits for him to spill.

“Jesus… Okay, yes. It was my fault because I was arguing with J about you changing my music and ignored the panic alarm for a minute or five. It was stupid and it almost got you killed. There are you happy?”

“Not quite.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Answers. Lots of them…”

“Yes… No… To get to the other side—“

“I swear if you tell me the square root of pi I am _never_ watching another movie with you ever again.”

Tony smirks at her and takes a deep breath. Darcy rolls her eyes and wonders why she ever let him watch that stupid movie franchise. He raises a brow at her and she blows out a breath and brings out the next thing on her list.

“Why’d you freak out on me the other night?”

“Because I do that, I freak out. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Tony…”

“Fuck, have you been taking lessons from Natasha? Don’t give me that look! Fine,” he cards a hand through his hair and it makes Darcy’s fingers itch to do the same. “I forgot about your injury and when it got a little out of hand and you reminded me, I remembered what I’d caused.”

“You’re such an idiot, you know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Next question.”

“Wait, let’s get this straight first; you are _not_ responsible for that alien attack. There was absolutely no way for you to know what was going on at the time. It was my smart mouth trying to be the hero that got me shot, okay? It was _my_ fault and no one else’s.”

“You were trying to be the hero?!”

“I was drawing attention away from Pepper and the other dudes in the room. It worked, with a few minor complications, but we’re all alive!”

“A few minor—Dammit, Darcy! You almost _died_. You pretty much bled out in MY ARMS,” she watches as he picks something up off the table and chucks it at the far wall, anger evident in the strain of his muscles and clenched teeth. “I was fucking responsible so just stop trying to make ME feel better!”

Darcy eases out of her seat running on pure instinct as she closes the distance between them, her hands rising to cradle his scruffy jaws and making him look at her, which he only does for a second before dropping his gaze to their feet. Her voice is quiet but firm as she speaks.

“Tony, you can be so oblivious to some things sometimes. It was _you_ that _saved_ me. Yes, I _would_ have died but you didn’t let me. You acted quickly and saved my life.”

“You were in a coma for almost a week,” he swallows and wiggles out of her hold to drop his forehead against her shoulder, not touching her anywhere else. “I almost lost you, Lewis…”

Darcy has to swallow down her rising emotions and blink back tears before she can say another word but she manages. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Stark,” he laughs lowly, just a huff of warm breath really and she playfully pushes him away, needing to see his eyes. “I… there’s something else I need to tell you about.”

He nods at her and gives her the floor. Darcy takes a deep breath and threads her bottom lip in between her teeth trying to figure out exactly how to shape her words. Then she remembers what Bruce had told her and she says the first thing that climbs up her throat.

“What’d you dream about when I was out of it?”

She watches his eyes widen just a smidgen and his gaze drifts over her shoulder as if he’s flicking through memories and Darcy bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet. Patience is a virtue and he blinks a second later and stares at her, hard.

“Why? What did _you_ dream about?”

This time it’s her turn to try and ignore the flickering pictures of her dream world. Only, it doesn’t work and she opens her mouth and it all comes out. All of it like verbal vomit she tells him everything.

“No take backs, right?” he nods and returns to his position leaning against the table and she gratefully returns to her seat before beginning. “We, you and I, were married… We had two kids, a little boy named Josh and a nine month old baby girl named Lee.”

“That was who you were asking Barnes about when you woke up?”

“Yeah, that day I had… I’d left her with Bucky before… I’ll get to that. Anyway, it was all so freaking surreal, perfect house, awesome kids, marital bliss,” Darcy avoids Tony’s gaze as she speaks, her heart hammering in her chest with each word. “I mean, it wasn’t _perfect_ , but we were happy. There weren’t any superheroes, Steve was an art teacher, and Thor was just a regular lumberjack dude who caught Jane’s eyes. Steve and Barnes had their own little boy, Brady, he was Josh’s best friend.”

Her lids close to better see the things as she tells him about her first day there, she doesn’t mention his parent yet, she can’t or she’ll break.

“Joshua was so smart and Lee was adorable, they loved you so much and,” Darcy doesn’t notice the tears that slowly roll down her cheeks as she continues. “I was just a regular housewife, something I never even knew I wanted to be. You were… Tony you were that little boy’s hero even without the suit and all the money.”

“So I take it I wasn’t rich in this world?”

“Yes, you were,” she opens her eyes and sets a watery gaze on him. “You worked for your dad… Howard and… and Maria were alive and they were so damn proud of you. I met them and they were so amazing. You turned your share of the company over to Pepper to spend more time with your family, with _us_ and it was good…”

She knows she’s breaking his heart as his head drops and he swallows convulsively. He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and as she makes to stand he holds a hand out halting her movement. When he speaks his voice is a harsh whisper and he has to clear his throat before she can make out his words.

“Dad… my parents were alive, both of them?”

“Yes.” Her own voice isn’t much better.

“Did they like you?” the ‘ _and me_ ’ that Darcy hears on the end of that question damn near breaks her heart all over again and she doesn’t care anymore. She loves this man more than she ever thought was possible and she just does not care about petty excuses anymore. There’s nothing to hold her back now.

Rising from her seat again Darcy ignores his back steps as she nears and she wraps her arms around his middle even when he tries to turn away, she just doesn’t give a flying fuck anymore. She is sick and tired of watching him suffer alone, and yes she knows he’s had Pepper and Rhodey, but in this moment the point is that he _isn’t_ alone.

“Your mom’s eyes lit up every time you walked into the room. Your dad kept stealing you away to show you things. They _loved_ you more than anything. Maria was so attached to Lee that she watched her twice while I was there. The woman loved her because you created her. You were their everything, sweetheart.”

Tony’s breath hitches and he hides his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder, twisting to wrap strong arms around her frame, holding her tightly to him as if she were his lifeline. Darcy doesn’t know how long they stand there, but it’s a moment that she won’t forget any time soon. The vulnerability that he’s letting her see makes Darcy just cry that much harder, like her heart is emptying itself and making room for something else, something _better_.

After a few shakily inhaled breaths between them, Tony pulls back and lets go of her with one hand long enough to wipe at his face in an effort to erase the tearstains. It doesn’t help but it makes Darcy huff out a quiet laugh. She attempts to do the same, glad that she’d foregone the mascara that morning as she swipes under her eyes and rights her glasses.

“Wow, that’s… okay… So is that it?”

Darcy shrugs and meets his bloodshot eyes. “There was a lake house somewhere and a classic car… and some really mind-blowing good sex.” That draws a laugh out of him and he loosens his hold on her to step back and settle his hip against the table once again.

“How did you… After all that, how’d you leave? How did you end up back here, I mean?”

“I died in a car wreck and woke up here. I didn’t necessarily want to come back here… for reasons, but Bruce said that was the alien stuff talking. I would have died either way. Which brings me to you… Tell me what you dreamed? I showed you mine…”

“Okay, okay, fair’s fair I guess,” Tony sighs and rubs at his eyes before he responds. “I saw the kids and you in what I guess now was our living room. Then we were dancing and you had some black lace dress on and, Jesus, you looked sexy. And before I woke up it was just us lying in this massive bed and it was morning, sun was pouring over the bed. You drool by the way.”

“I do not!”

“Liar.”

“All over, it was nasty.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right.”

Tony’s head snaps up and he meets her gaze and she prays to Odin that he understands because she is about thirty seconds away from making an absolute fool of herself. His eyes focus on her and it’s a little scary and overwhelming having that much focus centered on _her_. She never claimed to like being the center of attention, her snark and comedic relief are diversion tactics and she realizes so are Tony’s. God, she loves him.

“I’m right about a lot of things, but I think you should specify.”

“You are such an asshole, my mother was right.” Darcy sucks in a deep breath and he barely gets in a reply before she just lets it fly.

“Your mother, what now?”

“I LOVE YOU! Every infuriating and annoying inch of you! You drive me fucking insane and Thor help me, but I love you so much I can’t stand you! You’re obnoxious and over the top, rude and did I mention annoying? And for some nonsensical reason that I can’t grasp and I don’t think I ever will, I am so fucking in love with you!”

His shit-eating grin is just too much for Darcy to take and she’s pretty sure this was inevitable from the moment they met as she surges forward and drags him down to her level. An arm links around his neck and she doesn’t give him time to protest, her mouth crashing against his as the fingers of her other hand delve into his hair. He grunts and whether it’s in surprise or smugness she’ll never know because his lips part and her tongue sweeps into the cavern of his mouth. He welcomes the intrusion she assumes as his hands find her hips and grasp, dragging her flush against his front.

Darcy makes a pleased whine in the back of her throat when he spins them and bends his knees, getting his hands under her thighs and boosting her up and onto his work table. Her legs part as his hips wedge between them and she locks her ankles behind him, drawing him against her as much as she can. She doesn’t even care that he didn’t say it back; the sweep of his tongue against hers, the way his hands glide over her frame everywhere he can reach, that’s answer enough for her. Losing track of time, they make out like a couple of teenagers that just discovered how fun it is and before she knows it both of their shirts are gone and Tony’s trailing kisses along her collarbones.

“Bed…” Darcy gasps out as his teeth worry at a sensitive spot on her neck. “I mean, we should move this somewhere where we won’t get stabbed. And whe— _shit!_ Where the bots aren’t watching…”

“They don’t have eyes.” Is his muffled reply and she shivers when he licks a blazing path up the side of her throat.

“Dammit, Stark, take me to bed!”

“God, I love it when you get bossy.”

Darcy yelps as his fingers pluck at her nipple that strains against the fabric of her bra then steps away, or tries to, she has to unlock her feet first. He makes a grand gesture towards the door. She glares at him and makes grabby hands at him. Tony snickers and helps her off the table. Darcy grabs their shirts and pulls hers back on; no way is she getting caught in the act.

“J, turn it all off and take us to my floor. Oh, and when we get there, lock it down? I’m gonna be busy.” He waggles his eyebrows at Darcy making her roll her eyes and she throws his shirt in his face.

“Understood and done, Sir. Miss Darcy, should I lock up your apartment and leave a message there as well?”

She contemplates a second before agreeing and saying goodnight to the AI (she waves at Minnie and Dum-E too) and follows Tony out of the workshop. He waits until the elevator doors close to attack her at least. She fucking giggles and growls at him for making her do it and he laughs out loud and so easy that she can’t believe this is real. He doesn’t look like her haggard Stark in that moment and she doesn’t care because she’ll take him however she can get him.

 

*

 

It isn’t rushed or hurried and it’s _so_ much better than her dream had been. Tony is determined to use his hands and mouth to map every bare inch of skin that she reveals and she’s just as hungry to do the same in return. They stop just to kiss lazily occasionally and Darcy is shaking with need by the time that he has her laid out on his bed, bare and exposed to his heated gaze. Tony strips the last of his clothes off and she watches with a rapt fascination, realizing that she had a clue in her dream world the entire time. She rises to her knees and reaches for him, her gaze trained on the scar on his chest. He hesitates for only a second but she simply runs her fingertips over the raised flesh then presses her lips to it reverently.

He honest to God whimpers and Darcy shudders as his hands settle on her hips and the calloused palms do absolute chaos to her system when they slide up her sides, thumbs hooking under her breasts, testing the weight. He gives her lips a soft kiss before moving his mouth down to the pebbled peaks and she never thought that Tony Stark would be so _gentle_. His mouth drives her to distraction and her hands find his hair as her breaths begin to go shallow. She’s so wet already, she just wants _him_. She says as much and earns a groan that makes her tingle in all the right ways.

Tony coaxes her back against the mattress and she watches as he leans over her to fish around in his nightstand. Darcy gets distracted by the heavy heat resting on her thigh and he mutters a “Fuck!” when she wraps her fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, she smirks smugly as he rocks into her hand, condom completely forgotten for a moment. He has to bat her hand away but she can’t resist sweeping her thumb over his leaking slit and making him growl at her. Laughing lowly, she removes her hands and spreads her thighs as he deals with the protection all while watching her with blown pupils, teeth biting the shit out of his bottom lip when her fingertips drift over her sensitive nipples.

“You’re evil, so fucking evil…”

“You’re just now figuring that out? Well, there go my hopes of world domination. I was hoping you’d be the Pinky to my Brain.”

“Ha! You _wish_ you were Brain.”

“Tony, shut up and—“ her words are cut off by a moan as he slides the head of his cock up her slit, gathering her wetness and nudging her clit.

“And what? Hmm?”

“ _Tony...”_

His only response to her breathy moan of his name is to slide into her with a laugh that tapers off into a moan of his own. Darcy hitches her thighs up around his hips and loops her arms around his neck as he settles into her and over her with hands on either side of her head. His thrusts are deep and sure and strike a match inside of Darcy, her body igniting from the inside out and pushing moans and breathless pleas for more from her lungs. Her fingertips chase the sweat that glides down his spine and along his nape, and Tony continuously dips his head down to plant kisses against her lips and her neck when her back is arched.

She meets him thrust for thrust the best she can and she’s _so_ close that she keens when he changes the angle so he can rest on one forearm and trail the other hand down to her center. A dexterous thumb toys with her clit and she gasps when he hits the corresponding spot inside of her like a fucking pro. He doesn’t have to ask her if she’s close, no, instead he asks her something else.

“Say it again…Say it, please, Darcy… Tell me…”

“I love _you_!”

She cries out when she comes and she can’t help the tears that roll down her temples as she sees stars behind her lids. Her nails find purchase on the back of each of his shoulders as Tony pounds erratically into her chasing his own release that comes swiftly after hers. He moans so loud she’s pretty sure it out does her own and she loves him so fucking much. As he slows his hips, Darcy rubs soothing circles along the expanse of his back before he collapses on top of her. She laughs and doesn’t note that he’d landed on her left side and she isn’t going to break, Lord.

“You’ve lived here for how long and we could have been doing that?”

“Get off me you jackass.”

“Remember that when you get horny again.”

“Give me a few, maybe after I nap.”

“She’s going to kill me.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t know what to do with all of the insurance money.”

He laughs muffled against her neck and he pushes himself up and eases out of her making them both gasp. She watches as he climbs down and disappears behind a door she’s guessing is his bathroom. He returns a minute later and she stares at him with wide eyes as he cleans her up gently then tosses the washrag into a hamper she didn’t notice. He just smirks at her and crawls back into bed, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“We should sleep for a while because we are definitely doing that again.”

“I like the way you think.”

Instead of responding, Tony just settles into her and his pillow and she can’t believe how content he looks. She turns in his arms until they’re nearly nose to nose and she steals a kiss, before snuggling into his chest. Darcy can’t help pressing another kiss to his scar while she’s at it. If it weren’t for that horrible event she never would have met him. Fate never would have tossed her in his path and she wouldn’t be so damn happy. She doesn’t realize that she whispers her last thought as a wave of sleep pulls her under, but she does.

“ _I came home.”_

 

* * *      * * *

 

Tony wakes up on Monday morning with a face full of dark, tangled curls and he has to carefully tug his arm out from under Darcy before he can get up. He stares down at the curve of her shoulder, the slope of her hip where the sheet has slipped down just this side of decent. There are love bites peppering her cleavage and he grins to himself. They’d attempted to recreate a couple scenes from her dream and the shower one had sooo been his favorite. It amazes him that this little spitfire had so easily pinned him under her thumb and he was enjoying every damn second of it.

Careful not to wake her, Tony climbs from the bed and slips to the bathroom. After taking care of his bladder and brushing his teeth, he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and eases out of the room in search of coffee and his phone. Once the first is brewing, he dials Pepper and grins when she answers on the first ring.

“Where’s my assistant?”

“Asleep and drooling like an angel.”

“I assume it went well, then?”

“I’ll tell you about it one day when you’re older.”

“I’ll give her today off but I want her back tomorrow, Tony.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. Just don’t ask us to double date with you and Agent.”

“I’m hanging up now, enjoy my PA.”

“I will!”

He chuckles when she hangs up on him and just in time for the coffee to finish gurgling. He asks Jarvis to have some breakfast sent up because he’ll be damned if he does more than do what Pepper told him to today. He’s going to enjoy the brunette that’s drooling on his sheets. He checks his email and the goings-on in the tower while he waits for the food and sips his coffee. Right after the food arrives and he’s setting it out, Darcy emerges from his bedroom in one of his shirts looking deliciously rumpled and sleepy. He laughs when she makes grabby hands at his coffee and he surrenders it to her while he gets silverware and napkins.

“You ordered breakfast?”

“Easier than cooking.”

“I would have—Shit, what time is it?! I was supposed to go in today. Boss is gonna kill me!”

“It’s taken care of,” he watches her eyes become more alert as she stutters out sounds that form no coherent words. “I called Pepper and told her you were taking one more sick day.”

“She fired me didn’t she? Oh my, God, of course she did! I slept with her ex and didn’t go to work. Fuck.”

Tony rolls his eyes at her dramatics as she sits down in a chair at his breakfast nook and sighs heavily. He figures now is as good a time as any and moves to her side and takes a knee, his gaze turning earnest as he speaks. His hands arrange her the way he wants and he meets her gaze.

“Pepper knows, honey. She’s the one, well, her and Natasha, what is it with you women? Anyway, she gave us her blessing.”

“Of course she did, she’s fucking flawless and not to mention she’s been dating Son of Coul for months…”

“How was I the last person to _know_ that?!”

Darcy laughs and Tony feels a thread of warmth curl around his heart. Before he can lose his nerve he hikes up the hem of her shirt, swatting her hands away and leaning in to press an oh-so gentle kiss to her healing scar. She stills above him and he does it twice more before he pulls back and meets her awed gaze and dammit, he still doesn’t know why she loves him, but he’s done questioning it.

“I’m sorry for being a jackass. I’m glad that you’re here. And I…” he clears his throat as a single fat tear rolls down her cheek. He reaches up to brush it away and ignores his own watery eyes. “I love you too, Darcy. No take backs, right?”

She laughs again and throws her arms around his neck and he snakes his arms around her waist holding her tightly. He knows that it won’t be easy with who they are and the lives that they lead, but he thinks as long as her heart beats just like that, strong and loud in his ear, he can weather any storm with this girl. Her words from the night before flit through his mind and all Tony can think is; _‘Me too, Shortstack, me too.’_

* * *      * * *

 

Clint knocks on Darcy’s door again before he remembers that it’s Monday and she was due back to work that morning. So much for catching up on The Walking Dead with her. He turns around fully intending to go find Nat and bug her until she threatens to rip his balls off when he pauses, a thought skittering across his mind.

“Hey, Jarvis?”

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“Did Lewis go to work this morning?”

“No, she did not.”

“And do you know _where_ she is?” He has a sinking suspicion and he may need some brain bleach…

“Miss Darcy is currently with Master Stark.”

“And just where is ‘Master Stark today?”

“Sir has requested that his floor be put on lock down and only unlocked should a global or Avenger emergency be brought to my attention.”

“You didn’t answer the question, buddy…”

“My apologies, Agent Barton. Sir is at this moment in his kitchen I believe, as all live feed save for audio in the common rooms have been cut from the penthouse. Do you require his assistance?”

“Darcy is with Tony in his kitchen instead of at work?”

“That is the way of it.”

“I need fucking brain bleach!”

“I shall ask Dr. Banner if he has any on hand.”

“Fuck you, buddy!”

“Very well, Agent Barton, and you have a wonderful day as well.”

Clint shakes his head and hightails it to the elevator as fast as he can, the amused British tone making him roll his eyes. But as he takes the lift up to the communal kitchen he can’t help but grin. Darcy got her guy.

“ _Atta’ girl.”_

_FIN…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end of the road, folks. There will be an epilogue as soon as I get it out, but the fat lady is coming home to sing us a tune. I want to thank each and every one of you and I will flail at the end of the epilogue and do just that. Lol. Until then, I hope to Thor that you enjoyed this! I adore you all.


	17. Nothing's gonna stop us now!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is wherever your heart is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a FYI, this will read as snippets of their future and little tidbits out of Darcy's scrapbook. I took the time to make the manips that you're about to see, and edited the pics that aren't manips, so please enjoy them responsibly!
> 
> Now, the fat lady has the mic so if you could turn your attention to the stage for one final performance!

_Four months later…_

Tony took Darcy to a Halloween charity gala where they arrived as a spectacularly accurate Gomez and Morticia Adams. Darcy’s hair straight as a stick, lips red as blood, and the ladies on pale display; enough to make any man (or woman’s) mouth water, and Tony with his tailored suit that Steve swore up and down he’d seen Howard wear back in the forties. Stark spent the entire night smirking his trademark smirk and showing Darcy off. He introduced her to people she already knew and others she never dreamed of meeting. At the end of the night in true Tony Stark fashion he announced to the flittering reporters and papz that he was off the market by dipping Darcy in a surprising show of elegance and kissing her senseless. The next day the headlines read; ‘ _HAS STARK REALLY CHANNELED GOMEZ ADAMS AND GONE MONOGAMOUS?’_ Barton still won’t let him live it down and asks him to speak French whenever he’s feeling annoying. Darcy grins when Tony rolls his eyes and actually _does_ causing everyone to scatter like roaches when they end up making out like teenagers.

*

_Six months later…_

Two months after the Halloween event, Darcy pestered Tony into going to Tennessee for Christmas. It was like a damn scene out of Sweet Home Alabama except for one minor detail; Darcy wasn’t ashamed of her family in the slightest. She laughed when her dad showed Tony his gun collection and couldn’t quite keep the grin off her face when her mom made him promise to ‘treat her baby right’. Darcy covertly took pictures and sent them to the team back in New York and had them howling with laughter when she called to check in later. In the end, Tony made her mother fall in love with him with his charm and the way he couldn’t keeps his eyes off of Darcy. Her dad on the other hand just wanted to talk shop and Stark actually promised to bring the suit next time. (They didn’t need to know he actually had one in the trunk of their rental, paranoid bastard that he was.)

They made a detour before heading back to Manhattan and Darcy had the pleasure of meeting a snarky kid named Harley that reminded her far too much of Joshua. Watching him and Tony bicker was like coming home all over again. Tony left him and his family presents and they were back in the Big Apple just in time for the ball to drop. Of course he threw a party and she got trashed with Clint by trying to drink Natasha under the table. She danced with everyone including Coulson and it was the best New Years Darcy had had in a very long time. At midnight Tony gave her a scotch flavored kiss and told her he loved her and Darcy, she was in heaven.

*

_One year, three months, two weeks, five days, and seventeen hours later…_

Darcy laughed so hard she almost fell off of her stool, the glare that she was trying to shoot Barton failing miserably as she dug Skittles out of her cleavage. That’s what she gets, really for playing with an expert marksman, but dammit, she was bound and determined to make him miss.

“Come on! You cheated again!”

“How did I cheat, kid? It’s not my fault you couldn’t hit the broadside of a damn barn.”

She attempts to pelt him in the forehead with a red candy and is disappointed again when he somehow leans his body so far out that his own stool tips precariously back onto two legs, and he catches it in his mouth. They’ve been at it for almost an hour and the floor is littered with Skittle confetti of Darcy’s failures.

“Miss Darcy, I do so hate to interrupt your competition with Agent Barton but Sir requests your presence in the lower shop.”

“Aw, man! That’s all that saved you, Tweety I was about to get out the big guns.”

Barton just tosses a green Skittle down her shirt in response before she can hop down and she glares at him as she takes her leave, still digging candy out of her bra. She’s still eating her sports bra’s colorful spoils when she strolls into Tony’s workshop less than five minutes later. Her sock encased feet coming to a skidding halt when she gets a good look at her surroundings.

The shop is _spotless_ , an Iron Man suit sitting all casually on the couch with Minnie and Dum-E flanking its sides, and Mickey is just rolling into place beside his girlfriend as Darcy blinks in confusion. Not thirty six hours before the space had been its usual littered and greasy mess and she knows that was Tony in bed with her last night so… _What?_

“You like it? I thought it’d be nice to see how it looks straightened up for a change.”

Darcy’s head snaps around to her right and she stares at her hardheaded and wonderfully annoying man.

“You… cleaned?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I like it either. It feels all wrong.” Tony shudders dramatically and Darcy rolls her eyes, her hands finding her hips.

“Alright, what did you do this time? You only clean when you’ve fucked up.” (It was a new coping mechanism for him, instead of drinking himself to oblivion he cleans now. Darcy thinks it’s adorable that he’s trying to be a better man for her. Yeah, she still can’t wrap her mind around that one.)

“Nothing! Well, not nothing… I… it’s not important what _I_ did, exactly. What is important is that you didn’t tell me that you’d been going through dad’s stuff…”

Darcy ignores the blush that climbs up her neck in favor of crossing her arms over her chest, which is the wrong thing to do because Tony’s eyes drop down to her cleavage and Steve’s shield logo that’s stretched over the girls. The one day she has a day off and decided to be comfortable and everyone objectifies her. Oh, the shame! She snaps her fingers at him and uncrosses her arms, planting her hands on her hips again.

“Yeah that pose doesn’t help either, Shortstack.”

“Oh shut up! How’d you find out I’ve been going through his things anyway?”

“That would be my fault, Miss Darcy.”

“Dammit, J-Man! I thought that was our little secret?”

“My protocols insist that I alert Sir when certain articles are opened on my server. I do apologize, but perhaps he can help you with your search...”

Her blush deepens and she flicks her gaze down to Stark’s shoes as she shrugs in response. She wanted to search for the lake house without bothering Tony. It was something that kept nagging at her and she’d began going through Howard’s records, journals, anything she could get her hands on to see if it was mentioned. But she hadn’t had any luck and was about to give up.

“This what you were looking for?”

Darcy’s head pops up and in between her and Tony who stands to her right is a hologram image of the lake house in all of its glory. It’s aged and faded with time but it’s it, that’s her house. Her eyes widen and she takes a step closer to the projection, memories of a dream long gone flashing behind her vision. She notices the handwriting in the top left corner and has to squint to make it out, but Tony helpfully elaborates.

“Autumn 1976, a lake house bought by one Howard Stark. He owned the property for about twelve years give or take but I think he sold it when I went to MIT. I don’t remember it much, but you know how my memory is when it comes to certain things. I tend to repress. But the point is that if you would have just asked me, I could have saved you a lot of time and research.”

“I’m sorry, Tony… I just… I wanted to do it on my own.”  
  
“Because it was in your alien induced dream?”

She nods without replying letting her eyes flit to his through the hologram, she hadn’t even noticed he’d moved and was standing in front of her now, but she quickly lets her gaze fall back to her feet. With a wave of his hand the image disappears and suddenly he’s a foot away from her, his right hand reaching for her left as his left index finger hooks under her chin and tilts her face up until she’s swimming in his warm whiskey gaze.

“I get that, I do, and it’s okay. Alright?” He lets her nod once before he presses a chaste but warm kiss to her lips and pulls back. “I happen to know the current owner of that monstrosity, by the way…”

Darcy arches a brow at him as he lets go of her face but not her hand and steps back, their arms swaying between them.

“See, J here told me of your little research thing and I couldn’t help but look into it myself too. Turns out that dear old dad used to take mom and me up there when he could get away with it. Now, I may not remember much of those trips but I remembered what you’d told me about your little trip to Wonderland.”

“You saw it too…”

“Wait your turn. Now, where was I? Oh, right. I remembered what you’d described (some things in more detail than others),” he waggles his eyebrows at her and she rolls her eyes, thoroughly confused with where he’s going with all of this. “And so I did some calling around, pulled a few strings…”

“Are you going to get to the point today?”

“Shush, you can’t rush perfection!”

Darcy’s mouth falls open in complete and utter shock, her stomach and heart both dropping into her socks as she watches Tony-fucking-Stark drop down onto one knee. She’s sure she looks like a cartoon character whose eyes are huge and is only catching about every third word that he’s saying while his left hand digs around in his pocket.

“--bought it… What the hell… Where the… Dammit, Mickey!”

Her throat swallows around nothing as Tony snaps his fingers at the bot that’s apparently refusing to move and she barely recalls him saying some command to Jarvis, her brains bleeding out her ears. She only looks away from Tony when his suit strides (more like swaggers) over to them and drops a box into Tony’s hand. A tug on her hand has Darcy’s head snapping back down to the man in front of her and she forces herself to tune into whatever he’s saying.

“So, as I was saying, the house is yours if you want it. Even these dingbats can be yours too; they already like you more than they do me anyways. And maybe one day we can stock the house with some kids, if that’d be something you’d want to do… But, oh fuck, why is this so hard? This was supposed to be easy!”

He lets go of her hand for a moment to pry the ring box open and he rolls his eyes as the strains of Jefferson Starship’s ‘Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now’ drifts from the speakers in the shop.

“Very funny. Screw this, Darcy, I love you and everything this stupid song says is true. Marry me?”

She really can’t control it, her filter is fried and she’s running on her backup generators. She says the first thing that comes to mind. Okay the second but ‘What the actual fuck?!’ might be a little off putting.

“No take backs, Stark!”

If he’s laughing and she’s crying when he slips the diamond onto her third finger, neither of them cares. After he stands and pulls her to him, fusing his mouth to hers they forget everything around them, the moment just like a scene out of a movie. When they come up for air and he’s swiping tears from her cheeks, he’s grinning and it’s contagious.

“Sir, Miss Darcy I apologize for the intrusion, but may I allow the others access before Agent Romanova hacks my system or Captain Rogers breaks the door down? They are quite impatient.”

Darcy busts out laughing and shoves Tony when he chuckles giving Jarvis the go ahead. Of course, of fucking course they were all in on it. In a matter of seconds the workshop is filled with the Avengers, bots, Pepper, Sam, and even Coulson and Hill. Someone has food brought in and they make a mini party out of it. There are watery declarations and loud laughter, dancing, and in the end Darcy is curled up between Barnes and Barton watching the others goof off. Bucky’s metal fingers are threaded through her own digits and Clint plays with her engagement ring, a proud grin on his face. They watch as Tony spins Pepper around the floor to another horrible eighties ballad and in that moment Darcy knows that this is how things were really supposed to happen. Her dream world had been beautiful and all kinds of perfect but this? This is better.

 

*

 

Darcy stopped counting the days after her and Tony said ‘I do.’ Instead she measures life by smiles and the warm feeling in her stomach that never fades. She begins to keep a scrap book and all the funny and important things make the cut. On the first page is a ‘Family Portrait’ picture that gets switched out with every new year, but the first one that Tony sent her, it’s in there too…

 

-‘ _IRON DADDY!’_

__

_‘At last night’s NY movie premiere of ‘Moonshine’ we caught Tony Stark and wife Darcy out to enjoy Dylan O’Brien’s new film noir project and now we know why they’ve been laying low since their wedding last October! Looks like Iron Man is going to be a daddy! That’s right, we spotted Mrs. Stark proudly flaunting her baby bump. Maybe settling down has really changed Tony Stark, who knew! We wish them nothing but the best of luck!_

 

*

 

- _‘Sorry ladies and gents, but it appears that Captain America is officially off the market! Sources say that the national icon and former Howling Commando (and Steve’s best friend growing up) James ‘Bucky’ Barnes have tied the knot. Unfortunately due to Stark’s tightened security there aren’t any pictures yet, but we intend to be the first to get a sit down with these two newlyweds!_

*

 

*

 

-‘ _Is there romance in the air? Saturday night at the Black Keys concert we spotted the Iron Princess out with the Captain’s pride and joy and boy were they cuddly! Could the two who have grown up so very close according to past reports be_ **together** _? We think so! Stark and Rogers better watch out!_

*

 

_-‘STARK’S IRON PRINCESS AND AMERICA’S GOLDEN BOY ENGAGED!’_

__

_‘Remember that article from just two months ago concerning Stark’s heiress (Lena Maria Stark named after Tony’s late mother?) and Captain Rogers and hubby James Barnes’ son (Brandon James Rogers)? Well, we were right! Yesterday Lena posted the above picture of the two of them to her Twitter with the caption; ‘ **Forever is a long time, and I said yes! ;)’** Unfortunately there was no pic of the ring but reluctant sources from Avengers’ Tower have confirmed that the two are in fact engaged. Congrats, guys!_

*

 

- _‘IRON DADDY AND PRINCESS OUT ON THE TOWN!’_

_‘Only a week after getting engaged Lena Stark was seen out with Papa Stark at the annual Stark Industries charity event. We wonder where Momma Stark is but the rumors are flying that after her daughter’s engagement she packed up and went off on some tropical vacation with the Black Widow (Natasha Romanova) and CEO of SI, Pepper Potts. We guess we know who wears the pants in that family!_

*

 

-The lake house in ’76 and today. Happy Anniversary to meeeeee!

 

 

_And they all lived happily ever after._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is all she wrote! I am SO grateful to each and every one of you that have been with me since the start. And to all of my loyal commenters and the newbies alike, thank you, thank you, thank you. This was all for you and I'll adore you. You all have made me smile and feel like a million bucks.  
> Okay, I'm getting sappy after writing that epilogue and this with that stupid song on repeat. Damn you Starship.  
> It's been one hell of a ride and I hope you stick around for my next endeavor. <3


End file.
